


Those Who Wander

by Vera (Vera_DragonMuse)



Series: Those Who Wander [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: 1969, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Human, M/M, Summer of Love - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-17
Updated: 2013-08-23
Packaged: 2017-12-20 10:52:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 44,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/886408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vera_DragonMuse/pseuds/Vera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1969.  After three years away at war, Fili is home at last. Determined to reconnect with him, Kili asks him on a road trip from their native Brooklyn to San Francisco where Kili has built a new life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Hey.” The first word Fili said to his brother after three long years apart. It was quiet, the one word broken into two syllables somehow. 

They stood on yellowing linoleum, a nurse still flipping through discharge paperwork in the background. Fili wore his dress uniform, too loose on him now, and his duffel bag hung limply from one hand. His shoes didn’t match. One a normal buffed brown leather, the other blocky. Made to fit over a prosthetic. His hair had been shorn close to his skull, blonde and fragile. 

“Hey.” Kili choked, reaching out. His arms were covered in soft white linen, a billowing embroidered shirt over jeans long ago shot to hell and fraying. His hair was halfway down his back and he hadn’t shaved in too long. 

They must’ve looked a pair, but Kili didn’t give a damn. He crushed his brother into a hard hug, their ribs cracking together. With the space closed, Fili responded, his fingers digging into Kili’s back. He heaved in a breath that nearly shattered into a sob, but held its ground. 

Kili pulled back enough to inspect Fili’s face, gone gaunt and dark. He didn’t like the new shadows gathered in his eyes or the downturn of his lips. 

“You ready to get out of here?” He asked. 

“Been ready. They just liked me too much to let me go.” Fili’s lip quirked upward, a phantom half-smile. He pulled away entirely. 

“I’ll bet.” 

They walked out together into a obscenely sunny day. Fili lifted a hand to shade his eyes. 

“Here.” Kili pulled sunglasses from his pocket, black chunky plastic. 

“Thanks.” Fili slid them on. They swallowed half his face. “So how long until we hit home? I could use a nap.” 

“You can have them. I’ve got others.” Kili coughed. “Um. About that.” 

“About what?” Fili’s duffel swung a little off his fingertips, the unevenness of his gait throwing off his balance. 

“Well, you’ve got a choice. If you want it....I won’t be offended if you say no. Ok, that’s a lie, I might be offended, but I get that you might not want to and everything. I mean-” 

“What is it?” Fili asked, amusement warming his voice a fraction. 

“Look I...don’t live at home any more. I haven’t for the past year or so.” 

“Figured as much from your letters. Which by the way, were short and impossible to read. You’re a lousy goddamn correspondent.” 

“Sorry.” Kili flushed. “I wanted to say more, but...I don’t know. It looks weird on paper.” 

“Excuses.” Fili snorted. “Ok, so tell me now.” 

“I moved with Thorin and some of his friends out to California.” 

“California?” Fili stopped walking. “Seriously? Why?” 

“Thorin’s got a metalworking shop out there. Nice place. Bunch of the guys from back here work there now. I help him sometimes, got a bunch of other odd jobs and I’m taking some classes at a community college. I don’t know. It’s good there. Warm. People are friendlier than back here.” Kili shrugged. “I’ve got an apartment. It’s awful, but you know. It has a bed and a pull out couch. So if you want to come and stay awhile...” 

“You want me to move with you to California.” Fili said tonelessly. 

“I...yes?” Kili forgot how flustered Fili could make him. How his rational, even temper made Kili half-crazy. “Mom doesn’t mind if you move back in with her, but there’s no one left to hang out with here. We’ve all gone West and it’d just be you and her. And I’ve missed you, Fi. So much. Come out for awhile with me. We can drive together back, you know? Get to know each other again. If you’re sick of me when we get there, I’ll put you on the plane back myself.” 

Fili rocked a little, his bag swinging close to the sidewalk. 

“I’d like to see Mom first.” He said eventually. 

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. She’s making dinner already.” Kili eased out a breath, he hadn’t known he was clinging to. “Been talking about it for the past three days.” 

“Driving you crazy, huh?” 

“Straight up the wall, but she’s happy. It’s nice when she’s happy.” 

They crossed the parking lot, Fili slowing down noticeably as they went. 

“I can bring the van around-” 

“Don’t.” Fili grimaced. “I can manage.” 

“It’s that one.” Kili pointed down at the end of the row of cars. “I couldn’t get her any closer. Too big.” 

“...is it purple?” 

“I got it on sale.” Kili grinned. “It runs great, just looks run down.” 

“It’s giving me a headache and we’re still half a mile away.” 

“She grows on you.” 

The Bedford Dormobile camper was a virulent purple with an unforgettable neon green streak down the side. Whoever had painted her hadn’t known shit about what they were doing and used some kind of matte spray paint to get the job done. It had started to flake off in places revealing the original benign boring tan beneath. Kili had bought it off of a broke Grateful Dead groupie two months ago and driven in successfully from San Fransisco back home to Brooklyn, still purring like a kitten when he pulled up in front of their apartment building. 

“Yeah, like a mushroom.” Fili muttered, but he approached the van with interest, running a hand along her flank and pulling open the passenger side door. There was a step up to ease entrance, but it still took a little finagling for Fili to pull himself inside. Kili stood behind him, too nervous to leave him entirely alone, but too wary of offering too much help. 

Once Fili had moved around the front seats, Kili followed him in. 

“Uh, sorry about the smell. I’ve been living out of here for awhile.” 

“S’okay. Smelled worse.” Fili looked down the narrow corridor. 

The van had a condensed, sensible layout with a tiny kitchenette with a sink and little gas oven. Behind that were two couches that would unfold into two small beds or jerry rigged into one larger one. Kili had left it in the bed position after too many late nights trying to unfold the couches while he was on his own. The sheets were rumpled and he caught a pair of underwear hanging out of one edge. He snagged them and shoved them roughly into the bag that served as his hamper. 

“It’s not much.” He said eventually, unsure of what to make of Fili’s silence. “I do a lot of pissing in the woods, but the top pops up so you can stand back here and-” 

“I like it.” Fili sank down sideways into the passenger seat. 

“Oh. Good. Um. I call her Marigold.” 

“For God’s sakes why?” Fili’s solemn face shattered into a broad smile. 

_Because I knew,_ Kili thought to himself as he smiled back, _I knew all those weeks ago that it would make you laugh and then it stuck and I liked it and please please come back with me, Fi._

“Because she’s sweet and rumbles like a bee. Which like marigolds, I think.” He slid into the driver’s seat. “You’ll see. It's just obviously her name.” 

“You’re still crazy. Good. I’d worried growing up might change you.” The smile faded away, but it had been there and no one could take that back from Kili now. 

The drive back home wasn’t long and Kili filled it with anecdotes about their mother. How she’d cleaned the house from top to bottom on Monday then made Kili help him do it all over again this morning. How she’d made three cakes before she was satisfied and Kili ate one of the discards over the kitchen sink the night before. 

Fili stayed quiet, his hands sitting perfectly still on his knees. When Kili at last found a place to jam Marigold not far from the apartment building they’d grown up in, Fili didn’t move. 

“Do you want to come in?” Kili asked eventually. 

“No.” Fili finally raised one hand to his face, rubbed a little at his lips. “I...I kept thinking of this street. Of that fire hydrant. Running through it when it got hot. But it all looks different now. And just the same.” 

“It’s smaller.” Kili agreed. “Everything...gets smaller as you get older.” 

“That’s it a little.” Fili reached for the door handle. “Better not be late.” 

Their mother didn’t give Fili any time to get used to the neighborhood. As soon as his foot hit the sidewalk, she ran from the house. Her hug practically crashed them both to the sidewalk, making Kil’s earlier efforts look weak in comparison. 

“My son.” She kept saying, her face dry, but her voice wavering with tears. “My boy, my son.” 

Fili held her gently back as if she might shatter under her palms. Embarrassed and unsure, Kili slipped away with Fili’s duffel bag. He climbed the four flights of stairs to their apartment, the door left standing open. 

“He’s home then?” Mrs. Nickels shouted from the next door. “Tell that boy to come and see me!” 

“Yes, Mrs. Nickels.” Kili muttered, pushing inside. 

“That boy served his country like a real man!” She went on, her accusations following him to his room though she never moved from her chair next door. “He wasn’t a coward!” 

There were things Kili could shout back, but they stuck in his throat and died there. He’d grown up with Jordan, Mrs. Nickel’s son. He had been sitting on the stoop outside with friends when the telegram had come. He’d watched the officers mount the stairs, fear curdling in every vein that it was to his mother’s door they were headed. Carefully, he’d trailed behind them and hated himself for feeling relieved when the heavy hand fell on Mrs. Nickel’s door instead. 

The bedroom would look different than Fili remembered. They’d shared it for almost their entire lives, two twin beds neatly made and two sets of drawers. They had waged miniature wars over the space between them until they’d gotten old enough not to care. Once toys and comics had littered the floor where they lay on their bellies listening to the radio and making up their own stories. 

Now, it was more a guest room than anything else. Fili’s things had been left in a neat shrine and Kili’s side of the room picked bare when he moved. Kili sat down on the edge of his bed, ran a hand over the familiar scratchy blanket. The sounds of the apartment building washed over him. 

It took Fili a long time to get up the stairs. Kili stayed in their room, listening to their mother fuss and coo as the went with Fili’s steady reassurances beating beneath. By the time Fili go to the bedroom, he didn’t even look around just collapsed onto his old bed. For a brief instant it was as if no time had passed at all. Fili on the right, Kili on the left and all right with the world. 

“Who’s coming tonight?” Fili finally asked. 

“All the family that stayed behind. The Ironhills mostly. She’s got all the leaves in the dining room table and she borrowed chairs from a half-dozen neighbors.” 

The smell of onions carmalizing drifted in from the kitchen. 

“Fuck.” Fili declared quietly. 

“Yeah.” 

Their relatives were loud. An army of rosy cheeked women and red nosed men that filled every corner of the small apartment. All of them wanted to talk to Fili, hug him, clap him on the shoulder and look at the shining medal he’d brought home. 

“When I fought in the Great War,” an elderly uncle told him, “I nearly died twice! Best time of my life.” 

“You never saw action.” Another uncle crabbed. “Desk jockey, he was.” 

And just like it used to be, Fili had a boundless supply of patience. He listened and stayed still for the slaps that rained down on his back. He smiled at dotty aunts and nodded sagely at rambling uncles. He even drew with one of the nieces like he used to when she brought him crayons and a peice of paper with a shy smile. 

No one else seemed to notice the tightening lines at the corner of his eyes or the way his skin had gone pale. No one noticed that how when the lights stuttered off in a rolling brown off, he flinched and got twitchy. 

“Hey.” Kili sat down beside him, put a cold beer in his hand. 

“Hey.” Fili took a long swallow, then set it down on the edge of a table. “Thanks.” 

“No problem.” 

“Fili! Come say hello to Georgiana!” Their mother called. “You remember her!” 

“Did she invite my high school sweetheart?” Fili asked, all wide eyed in disbelief. “The one that dumped me at prom?” 

“I’ll distract her while you get away. Georgie never liked me.” 

While Kili staged the intervention, but when he turned around again Fili had been cornered again. There was no hope for it. By the time the last relative had left, it was nearly one am and Fili looked like he was in agony. 

“I can help with the dishes.” He was saying. 

“I’ll get them in the morning.” Their mother insisted.” 

“But-” Fili started. 

“Trust me. She’ll find things for you to do tomorrow. I’ve already changed every light bulb in the place.” Kili said carelessly. “Might as well get sleep while you can.” 

“Awful child.” His mother snapped the dish towel, but her eyes were soft. “Both my boys under one roof. Go to sleep and let me enjoy it.” 

“Yes, Mama.” Fili kissed her on the cheek and hobbled slowly to bed. 

“Did you ask him?” She waited until he was down the hall. 

“Yes. He didn’t answer me.” 

“He will.” She sighed. “He will. There’s nothing for him here. You boys were always made to travel.” 

“You think?” Kili tried not to puff up with pride as he did any time someone referred to them collectively. He always hoped that he would grow up to be more like Fili. Fili, who was always a little smarter, a little calmer and always older. 

“Yes. But you have to promise me something.” 

“What’s that?” 

“You take care of each other. I can’t stand to lose either of you.” 

“We will, Mama. I promise.” 

Their room was dark when Kili finally came to bed. Fili lay under the sheets, quiet and still. Kili shucked off his jeans and shirt, before climbing under his blankets. 

“I’ll go.” Fili said as soon as Kili’s head hit the pillow. “I can’t...do this. So. Let’s go.” 

“Okay.” Kili said evenly as if his heart weren’t fit to burst. “We’ll leave whenever you’re ready.” 

He counted Fili’s breaths like he used to when they were little and Kili had feared the darkness would swallow his brother whole. For the first few months Fili was away, Kili had lain sleepless in this bed. He had been right to fear after all. 

Now, he listened to that rasping even sound. One. Two. Three. Four. He fell asleep at seventy-six and dreamed of the road.


	2. Straight on Through Jersey

“Where are you planning on putting all of that?” Fili watched Kili struggle down the sidewalk with a dozen bags in each hand. 

“You’d be surprised at how deep her cupboards are.” He huffed, setting them down with a clatter next to Marigold’s back door. “You got everything?” 

“I’m traveling light.” The worn duffel bag rested at Fili’s feet, half-depleted. “How can you afford that much food?” 

“Told you, I’ve been working. The rent on my place is low and I don’t have any expenses. Just been saving up.” 

“For what?” 

Kili started at him blankly. 

“For this.” He said finally, carefully. 

“Wh-” 

“Do you have enough food?” Their mother came down the steps, apron still tied around her waist. “I have so many leftovers.” 

“No way to keep ‘em cold.” Kili reminded her. “It’ll be fine. Lots of canned stuff and we’ll stop and get one real meal a day, promise.” 

“You better.” She huffed. “I don’t want to see pictures of you two thin as sticks because you couldn’t be bothered.” 

“I’ll take care of him.” Fili said gently. “Always have.” 

“I know.” She smiled and hugged him again. “You take care of yourself too, you hear?” 

“I hear.” 

Kili loaded his groceries into Marigold’s cupboards as they made their goodbyes. He’d had a long week with their mother before he’d picked up Fili and said everything that needed saying last night in the kitchen. Carefully, he staked soup cans and piled up jerky. His miniature pots and pans rattled in their drawers. No matter what she feared, Kili had eaten well out of his cabinets from San Francisco to Brooklyn. Diners and restaurants were luxuries he’d avoided at all costs. Every penny of his savings was for the way back. Coming here had been a mad cross country race. Going home would be as leisurely as he could get away with. 

Marigold dipped as Fili swung himself inside. 

“Ready?” Kili rolled the bags together. 

“Where should I put this?” Fili hefted up his duffel bag. 

Kili came around into the living/bedroom area and unhooked the subtle cabinet built in next to the beds. His own clothes were folded compactly on one shelf with toiletries beneath. 

“Good thing you packed light.” He gestured at the remaining two shelves. “All yours.” 

“Thanks.” Fili sat down on the edge of the couch, unzipping the bag. The faint scent of disuse filled the air. “We gassed up?” 

“Went out early this morning. I was thinking of heading down through New Jersey first, maybe all the way to Virginia.” 

“Be faster to head across Pennsylvania and Ohio.” 

Kili latched the last cabinet closed, pressing both hands against the laminate for one shaky moment. 

“Yeah, but there’s no beaches there. If we don’t stop now, we won’t see the ocean until we get to California.” 

“So?” 

“So that is unacceptable. Sand. Water. These are good things and I choose not live without them.” He pushed off the cabinets and headed to the driver’s seat, arranging the can of soda and the pack of cigarettes in easy reach. 

“You’re afraid of water.” Fili limped his way to the passenger seat. He fit perfectly there, his good leg tucked up under the bad and his head resting on the back of the seat. Always visible out of the corner of Kili’s eye. In easy reach too. 

“When we got out to San Fran, Uncle kept dragging me down to the ocean and convincing me in. Only so long you can be afraid of something, you know? Hell, I learned to surf.” He turned the key in the ignition, listening as the engine turned and caught. 

“I missed it.” Fili, the bare skeleton of a laugh rising in this throt. 

“Missed me learning to swim? It wasn’t exciting. Mostly a lot of complaining.” 

“No...I missed you. Growing up.” 

“Don’t worry.” Kili opened his Lucky Strikes, tucking one behind his ear for later then started Marigold up. “I’ve got plenty left to do.” 

He offered the box over and watched in appreciation as Fili deliberately chose the bottom left cigarette. Kili had always loved the ritual of Fili’s smoking, how easy it was for him. He would tap down the pack on the palm of his hand, light a match on his teeth and let the soft orange flare catch on white paper. Each drag would be long and thoughtful. 

Kili’s own ritual was far jerkier and less thought out. A yeah ago, it gained the addition of a nicked heavy metal heavy lighter with a flame that always threatened to catch on his long hair. 

“Where’d you get that?” Fili asked, watching him carefully. 

“A friend.” Kili waved away the first tendrils of smoke along with the question. He palmed the lighter before Fili could see the scripted initials ‘T.E.’ on the side. 

_“Take it,” she laughed shoving it at him, “it’s meant for a man. My Father gave it to me.”_

_“I can’t.” Kili protested even as he took it in his palm. They lay in the moonlight, her skin all over pearly and perfect._

_“You’ll need it to remember me.” She tsked._

_“I’d have to be dead to forget you.” He lay beside her, inhaling the light sweet scent of her hair._

_“That’s what they all say.” But she went on smiling, pleased with the compliment._

“Pretty good friend.” Fili said mildly, rolling down his window in a few sharp cranks. 

“Yeah, well.” He shrugged. “Anywhere you want to stop in Jersey?” 

“Fuck, no.” 

“Figured.” 

Kili flicked on the radio, a buzzing hum of bubblegum rock filtering through the caravan. It wasn’t too hot yet, just the beginning of a summer breeze. It felt remarkably indulgent to drive that way, cruising down smooth roads past factories and meadows alike. New Jersey always took Kili by surprise, so much longer than it looked on the map. Every few minutes, he’d look over to Fili, taking the temperature of the space between them. 

Each time Fili looked just the same, Kili’s sunglasses covering his eyes and lips in a tense line. It was a new expression, one imported straight from Vietnam. Kili had no idea what to make of it. 

“Hungry?” He asked when four hours had trickled past. 

“I can put together some sandwiches.” Fili pushed upwards. “Keep driving.” 

“Okay.” He kept his eyes on the road, but every piece of him strained to make out Fili’s movements. 

Could he keep his balance in the rumbling van? Did he know where everything was? Why didn’t he want to stop? The question clamored to the tip of Kili’s tongue and died at the wall of his teeth. Time had robbed him of the right to ask. 

“We can make Virginia Beach by dinner, I think.” He said instead. 

“You got a map around here? I can double check.” Silverware rattled and a cabinet snapped open then closed. 

“In the glove compartment. Also got a book with the 100 things to see in America before you die. I figured we could cross a few off as we go.” 

“Here.” Fili handed him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on a napkin. The crusts had been cut off. Kili’s heart nearly burst in his chest. No one had cut the crust of his sandwiches in years. “I always wanted to see the Grand Canyon.” 

“Of course you do.” Kili grinned. “Everyone does. I don’t get it. Just a big ass hole in the ground.” 

“It’s the biggest hole in the ground you’ll ever see.” Fili snorted, settling back into the passenger seat. He took Kili’s Coke, cracking it open, taking a sip and setting it back beside him. Apparently they were sharing. “Don’t tell me you don’t have Vegas in the list in your head.” 

“Maybe.” He laughed. “But we’ll do ‘em both. Probably be ready for a hotel room by then, I bet. Take a good long bath.” 

“Sounds good to me.” 

They plowed through their sandwiches, the factories finally giving way to woods and signs for the Jersey shore. Kili took a sip of the Coke, the taste of Fili’s smoky breath lingering there. 

“What are you taking?” 

“Hm?” Kili set down the soda too fast. Guilty. 

“You said you were taking classes at community college. What are you doing?” 

“Oh. It’s silly, really.” He shrugged. “Just some stuff on jewelry making, you know? The metal working is sort of cool and it’s not hard and...I don’t know.” 

“Did you make that?” Fili pointed at the woven necklace, hemp, copper and silver overlapping each other. It stained his skin, but Kili liked it anyway. 

“Yeah, scrap piece really.” 

“I like it.” Fili tilted his head to side studying it. “Didn’t think necklaces could be...manly.” 

“I make very manly jewelry.” Kili laughed. “There’s plenty. I’ll show you when we get to my place. I’ve got tons rattling around these days.” 

It was easy to talk about the classes, studying under the thick beard of Professor Gloin, who had steady hands, but no patience for mistakes. Kili did his impression of the man’s bombastic speeches that coaxed a long snicker from Fili. 

“There’s the G.I. Bill.” Fili said when Kili had wound down. “I was thinking I could go back to school. Figure something out. I don’t want to be useless.” 

“It’s cool. You do whatever you want, I mean it. I’ve been supporting myself no problem. Little extra food and clothing won’t break my bank until you sort it out.” Kili said quickly. 

“Thanks, but I don’t think I could live with mooching off my little brother.” Fili stretched out his good leg, rubbing deep into the muscle until Kili winced for him. “There’s things I can do. Desk work.” 

“You were always good at math.” 

“Great. I’ll be an accountant.” 

Darkness fell not long after, giving them some privacy from each other. Kili let his jovial smile melt away. Fili didn’t take off the sunglasses, possibly dozing behind them. The radio segued into the evening news and Kili snapped it off. 

“Don’t you want to know what the Yankee score is?” Fili asked, startling him. 

“Maybe later. I stopped listening to the news.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I knew where you were.” Kili watched the yellow line disappear beneath Marigold’s fat tires. “They’re always talking about where things are bad. I didn’t want to know.” 

“Oh.” Fili rubbed a hand over his jaw. “Well. I didn’t want to know either. Just didn’t have the luxury of turning off the radio.” 

Nursing the sting of that comment took Kili straight up until dinner. 

“Let’s make franks and beans.” Fili declared when Kili’s stomach rumbled. 

“Breaking our promise to Mom on the first day?” 

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” 

This time Kili pulled over, stretching his legs and ducking behind a tree to relieve his aching bladder. Everything hurt a little, stiff and sore with sitting all day and exhausted from so much tense conversation after so many days with only himself for company. When he got back, Fili had already put the pot on the stove. 

“Watch that.” Fili pushed the handle of pot into his hand. “Back in a minute.” 

It was longer than minute. Kili kept an eye on his watch and figured after ten, he’d be safe to go out and make sure Fili hadn’t fallen into the bushes. It only took five for Fili to return and take the pot back over. 

“I did manage to cook for myself for the past three years.” Kili protested. 

“You’re doing the driving, I’ll do the cooking. Sit.” 

Kili sat. The couches were comfortable enough and gave him a little more leg room. Wedged in next to the one that would serve as Fili’s bed was an ugly wood cane. How had Kili missed that coming on board? He struggled not to stare, lest he give himself away. 

“Think I’ll turn in.” Fili announced when they’d finished their meals in silence. 

“Little early for it.” Kili got up, ready to unfold the couch anyway. “Want to stop for the night?” 

“No. If you think you can finish the drive, we might as well. The movement will knock me out anyway.” 

It took watching Fili drop into bed and fall right asleep to convince Kili. Apparently Fili really wasn’t trying to get away from him. He was just worn down straight to the bone. Kili could sympathize. He got back behind the wheel and sang the entirety of _Let it Bleed_ from memory. When he got to the beach, he hunted around for an hour to find a place to park right next to the sand, out of sight of any curious cops. 

Checking on Fili first, he found him still asleep. Assured that he was out for the count, Kili crept outside and walk barefoot down to the water. The Atlantic had a different quality than the Pacific, colder and furious, but he loved it just as much. The water lapped around his feet until he started to shiver. 

Their beds were closer together than he’d anticipated, cutting the space between them in half from their childhood bedroom. He could hear the slight catch of breath in Fili’s nose, a faint whistling shadow of a snore. 

He got up to thirty-two breaths before he fell asleep and dreamed of endless flowerless meadows. 

A salty breeze brought him awake. 

“What’s that?” He mumbled, shoving himself up then wincing at the assault of the sun. The back doors of the camper had been thrown open. Fili sat on the bumper, a cigarette half-smoked hanging from between his lips. 

“Morning, sunshine.” Fili lit a second cigarette off the end of his and passed it to Kili. “Bought some coffee from the bodega down the block when you’re ready.” 

“God bless you.” Kili groaned, taking a long suck on the end of the cigerette, letting the smoke burn his lungs awake. “What time is it?” 

“No idea. Don’t have a watch.” 

Kili didn’t ask why. The Fili he’d grown up with always knew the time, kept meticulous care of their Father’s old wind up piece. The one he’d left behind for Kili when he went to basic. It hung from Kili’s wrist now, battered, but still ticking along. 

“You should take it back.” He sat down beside Fili, taking the offered white styrofoam cup. It smelled terrible, but coffee always did to him. 

“Why?” Fili blew smoke out through his nose, dragonlike. 

“It’s yours.” 

“It’s ours. Your turn to hold onto to it. I’ll take it back when it’s my turn.” 

It was late enough that the sun had heaved itself free of the water and a few small children had gathered beneath it to build a sandcastle. 

“Want to go for a swim?” Kili downed the coffee in three tortuous gulps. 

Fili took the last drag of his cigarette, tossed it to the pavement and ground it out under his heel. He didn’t say anything, staring out at the water with undisguised anger. 

“I’ll take that as a no.” Kili sighed. “Do you mind if-” 

“I fucking can’t, okay?” Fili spat out. “It’s all the fucking sand. It’ll get in the prosthetic and if I take it off, then I’ll need the cane and people will stare and I can’t take it.” 

“There’s no one around.” Kili gestured at the nearly empty beach. “And I sure as shit don’t care.” 

“It’s...not pretty. You’ll care. Trust me.” 

“Will it upset me?” Kili shrugged. “Probably. You’re my brother and you got hurt and that’s awful, but I’ll live, I think.” 

“It’s ugly.” 

“So what?” Kili knocked his shoulder against Fili’s. “I grew up looking at your hideous face, didn’t I? Already scarred for life.” 

“You little asshole!” Fili looked completely scandalized, just before he tackled Kili backward into the van, jabbing him with the kind of pulled hits he’d always used in their petty fights. 

“Ahh!” Kili warded off the blows, breathless with laughter. “Get the hell off of me!” 

“Admit that I’m the pretty one and I might.” Fili slapped him on the side of the head. 

“Never!” Kili bucked up and in one heave reversed their positions. “Ha!” 

“Jesus, what have you been eating? I know you got tall, but you’re like a hundred pounds heavier.” 

“And prettier.” Kili tossed his long hair over one shoulder, blowing at the wisps that lingered over his forehead. “Fact of life, brother.” 

“Lies.” Fili pushed him hard enough to dislodge him. “Go put on your swim trunks, Princess.” 

Kili kept his eyes to himself, shedding clothes and pulling on his swimsuit, only turning when he heard the thunk of plastic. The prosthetic lay limp on the floor, a bloodless horror movie limb. A blocky foot in beige plastic, a metal rod standing in for the missing calf and a bowl with straps to fit over the knee. 

“You might as well get it over with.” Fili shoved up the black line of his swim trunks. He sat on the edge of his bed, cheeks flushed. “Look your fill.” 

Taking him at his word, Kili dropped to his knees in front of Fili, hands hovering just above the warped flesh. Whoever had taken Fili’s leg had been skilled and neat about their work. The skin pinched down, white and pink scar tissue folded in precise lines. Just two inches above the cut and it all looked perfectly healthy. The letter from their mother calling Kili home had described a ‘partial amputation’ and ‘saving the knee’. That seemed a cold description now for the raw ache Kili saw before him. 

“They say there’ll be better prosthetics over time.” Fili’s hands tightened into fists then loosened again. “That it’ll get easier to walk with it.” 

“Does it hurt?” 

He knew the answer, but he wanted to know if Fili would lie. 

“Sometimes.” Which had the advantage of being true and wildly open to interpretation. “I don’t think I can use the cane on the sand.” 

“So lean on me. It’s not that far to the water.” 

Fili hesitated. 

“The longer we wait, the more people that are going to show up.” 

“Nice. Threaten me once you see my weak spots.” But it got Fili up and one arm slung around Kili’s shoulder. 

Their height difference, only now really registering with Kili, made the effort more awkward than it should have been. He’d spent his life three feet behind and a foot below his brother, towering over him from close up jarred unbearably. Probably for both of them. Still they managed and when they reached the water, magic happened. For the first time since Kili had picked Fili up at the hospital, he saw the vital man he remembered. 

Fili had always been a powerful swimmer. The muscle tone in his arms and chest had shrunk with too many listless days in a hospital bed, but what remained rippled to life as he left behind gravity’s jealous hold. Kili kept pace with him, not interested in winning such an uneven race. They went too far out, bobbing corks in the waves to regain their breath for the way back. 

“This was a good idea.” Fili turned his face up to the sun, the rays catching on the razored remains of his hair. He was utterly gorgeous for a breathless instant, golden and untouchable as a memory. 

“I’m full of good ideas.” Kili turned up on his back, his fingers seaweed light where they brushed against Fili’s. 

For a divine hour, they were weightless, fearless, happy and half-drowned in companionable silence.


	3. From Virginia to Tennessee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains drug use, mentions of trauma and mild descriptions of gore.

_“Do you believe in miracles?” She asked. She was on the bed, laid out. He sat on the floor, head resting on the edge of the mattress. His hair fanned out under her fingers. It was longer than he’d ever worn it, nearly to his chin._

_“Don’t know.” He closed his eyes against her fingernails gently over his scalp. “Never thought about it.”_

_“Think about this then. In a crowd of a thousand, I stumbled and you caught me.”_

_“That’s not a miracle.” He smiled. “Nice though. Lucky maybe.”_

_“Miracles are smaller than you think.” Her lips touched the crown of his head, soft and wet._

_“What’s that?” He reached up, brushed her face and found it gritty._

_“Miracles on miracles.” Her voice wavered, dipped deeper. Deeper than she usually allowed it._

_“Baby?” He turned, fast. Too fast. She turned to dust before his eyes, a fine shifting sand. There and gone. A rust red that stained the sheets. With a shaking hand, he touched the place she had kissed. Wet, soaked._

_His fingers came away sticky with blood._

“Kili! Jesus, you’re scaring me!” 

“What?” He woke in a blurry start. “Baby?” 

“Not since I last checked.” It was Fili, of course, husky with fatigue. “You started thrashing, whimpering.” 

“Did I?” He struggled upward, almost knocking Fili to floor. “Sorry, I- sorry.” 

“Sounded like a nasty dream.” 

“Guess so.” 

“You don’t remember it?” 

“Some. Doesn’t matter.” He palmed the grit out of his eyes. 

“No?” Fili settled back down on the edge of Kili’s bed. “I’ve got some too. Nightmares.” 

“Yeah?” 

“More than a few.” 

Marigold was enshrouded in darkness, intimate with shadows. Fili reached out, brushed a sweaty strand of hair from Kili’s forehead. Then he pulled his hand away as if burned. 

“We could drive.” Kili suggested, mouth sand dry and eyes still half-gummed shut. “It’s only six hours to Tennessee.” 

“What’s in Tennessee?” 

“A surprise.” 

“Can the surprise not be our fiery deaths? I think you’d crash us right about now. You should go back to sleep.” 

“Can’t.” He rubbed the heel of his hand over his forehead. “Wanna go for a swim?” 

“Are you crazy?” 

He wasn’t and Fili, after a great deal of coaxing, agreed. The ocean was different in the darkness, treacherous. Neither of them ventured far from shore. The cold sank in without the sun to prick at his skin, but Kili could watch the fat moon and count the stars. He wished he’d thought to roll a joint before they’d left the camper. 

Then again, he had no idea how Fili might react to the rather large stash of weed Kili had rolled up under his mattress. Probably best to skip it for now. 

“We’re going to drag all this salt and sand back into the camper?” Fili wrinkled his nose as they washed back up on shore. 

“Hell no. Not in my baby.” Kili lead Fili up the incline and to the tiny bathhouse. “Give me a second.” 

“What are you- Kili!” 

“What?” Kili pushed open the door, now an easy task with the frame broken under the force of a kick. 

“That’s breaking and entering! You’ll get us arrested!” 

“Will I?” Kili looked exaggeratedly around. “By who?” 

“Someone. Fuck. You have gone nuts.” 

“No, I haven't.” Kili sighed. “Listen, you want to shower or not? I’m going to.” 

“But-” 

“I’m serious, Fi. We can’t start up with hotel rooms this early on or we will have a money problem by the end. You want a shower, this is how you’re getting it. I’ve got some water on board for the sink, could probably manage a sponge bath like that if you’d prefer.” 

“Son of a bitch.” Fili growled. “Come help me in then.” 

It took some doing, but they managed to get Fili into the shower without compromising either of their dignities too badly. The lights hummed institutionally, flickering in and out. Fili cursed softly as he showered, the litany a weirdly calming counterpoint. 

“You okay?” Kili asked as he chased down grains of sand from between his toes. 

“I’m naked in a federal building that my apparently now criminal brother busted open and I’m leaning against the most likely filthy stall door because I can’t keep my balance.” Fili said tightly. “I’m just fine, thanks.” 

“I’m not a criminal.” Kili groaned. “Our taxes pay for the damn water, don’t they? I broke a door which someone’ll get paid to fix. No one’s poorer for it.” 

“That doesn’t make it less illegal.” Fili sighed. “You were such a rules loving kid. Used to tell Dad he was going over the speed limit all the time. Drove him crazy, remember?” 

“Yeah, well.” Kili laughed. “Thing is, I’ve learned some rules make less sense than others.” 

“What are we supposed to wear back to the camper?” Fili asked after a moment of quiet. “The suits are just as bad as we were.” 

“Um.” 

It couldn’t rightly be called streaking when they were moving so slowly. Swimming and the subsequent shuffle had worn Fili out. Maybe he wouldn’t admit it, but he leaned heavily on Kili as they made their way back to Marigold’s waiting beds. 

“Oh God.” Fili crawled under the sheets, still naked. “You’ll sleep now, right?” 

“Promise.” Kili got in across from him. 

It only occurred to Kili as he slipped back into the morass of unconsciousness that a grown man’s whimpers probably weren’t enough to stir Fili from slumber. Had he been awake? Startled by his own nightmares or just brooding in the darkness? 

They didn’t talk about it the next morning for which Kili was profoundly grateful. Fili only handed him some toast then climbed expectantly into the passenger seat.

Reluctantly, Kilil let the beach disappear in the rearview mirror. Despite the showers, the smell of salt and seaweed hung reassuringly around. Sand crunched under his bare feet as his toes groped for the gas pedal, sandals discarded to one side. 

“It’s six hours to Tennessee, maybe seven.” Kili ran his hand through his hair, encountering far too many knots. He’d have to comb it out when they stopped. 

“Why Tennessee?” 

“It’s in the way between here and there.” 

“Yeah?” Fili raised an eyebrow. “Fair enough.” 

Fili didn’t reach for the map to check and Kili smiled. They wouldn’t reach his intended destination in time today, but that hardly mattered. Tennessee had other things to recommend it. 

“I promised Mom.” Kili winked when they pulled into a promisingly full parking lot. The restaurant wasn’t much to look at, but the decor hardly mattered. 

“And you always keep your promises.” 

“Sure do.” Kili said as sincerely as he could. Because he did. 

“Better than you keep to the law?” 

“Oh, fuck off.” 

They both ordered ribs and were amply rewarded for the choice. Sweet squares of cornbread, refried beans and the meat itself falling off the bone left them both full bellied and complacent. It took another hour of lazy driving to pin down a place to sleep for the night far off from the road in a shaded wood. By then Fili had already called it a night. 

“It’s only eight o’clock.” Kili told Fili’s prone body helplessly. 

At least it gave him a window. Kili teased the long slender box from under his mattress. He climbed the ladder to the roof and laid out under the stars. Fishing into the box, he pulled out a fresh rolling paper. Carefully, he tucked in the strong bud, licked the edges of the paper and examined his handiwork. Just the smell unclenched his stomach. 

The tip lit cherry red and the smoke feathered outwards. Marigold’s metal roof still held the last of the day’s warmth, unwinding muscles tensed from driving. Time went elastic for Kili when he was high, a delicious marmalade. 

When the tremors started, Kili assumed it was a bear shaking Marigold in search of her sweet center. He should’ve probably attempted to escape or to raise an alarm. Before he could muster the energy to get up, the top of Fili’s head came into view and the shaking ceased.

“How are you doing that?” Kili blinked once, twice. 

“Strong arms, hopping and annoyance. What the fuck are you doing?” 

“Um.” Kili looked at the joint, his second, still smoldering in his left hand. “Getting stoned?” 

“So you’re a drug addict too. I thought maybe the clothes and the hair were just...jesus.” Fili sat down beside him, out of breath. “What happened to you?” 

“It’s just weed.” Kili coughed and then out of sheer contrariness took another drag. “Good stuff too. Bofur grows it.” 

“No, he does not!” Fili looked utterly scandalized. 

“He does. In his closet.” Kili shrugged as best he could lying down. “And I’m not an addict. I smoke like half as much as Bofur does and a third as much as Nori does. I like to take the edge off now and then.” 

“The edge.” Fili said flatly. 

“Yeah. I mean, life is...hard. It’s really complicated and full of unexpected bullshit. The edge, man.” 

“What do you know about life? You’re barely twenty and you’ve had people watching out for you every damn day you draw breath. What’s so hard about that? Huh?” Fili growled. “Tell me your woes, kiddo.” 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t take up arms in an unjust war and get blooded like you.” Kili snapped. “I’m sorry that I looked at my life and thought I was worth more than dogtags mailed back in an envelope or a lousy telegram.” 

“I did what needed to be done!” 

“Did you?” Kili groaned. “Jesus, Fi. I never doubted your bravery or that you thought it was right, but you see now, don’t you?” 

“I see a stupid child, ranting about things he doesn’t understand. That’s what I see.” Fili slammed the flat of his hand on Marigold’s roof, the vibrations rattling under Kili’s skin. “People died over there. Men I knew. My friends. They died too young fighting in a war that you may not like, but is real enough. I know death and I know things that are hard.” 

“People bled over here too.” Kili stared at the tip of the joint, unable to control the wobble in his voice. “I know what it is to love someone and lose them. Maybe I didn’t become a man by putting on a uniform or shooting someone or leaving my family behind to live up to a father I barely remember, but I figured it out well enough on my own. So you can take your self-righteous bullshit and go back to bed.” 

Neither of them spoke in the heaving aftermath of that. Fili stared into the woods, rubbing at the end of his knee. The prosthetic had been left behind, a naked severing under Fili’s anxious fingers. 

“Does it actually help?” He finally asked. 

“Sometimes.” Kili held out the joint. Fili took it, fingers numb and clumsy enough that Kili feared it would tumble to the ground. 

“Who was he?” 

“Hm?” 

“The person you lost.” 

“She.” Kili corrected. “Another story for another day.” 

“You’re not stupid. Sorry.” 

“I’m not. Sorry, I mean. We’ve got a lot to say to each other. Figure some of it’s going to get ugly.” 

Fili inhaled, holding it in too long, but he didn’t cough or gag. Just let the smoke out in a steady stream. 

“Do you really not remember Dad?” 

“I remember a little. How he used to pick me up. His beard scratching against my cheek. I remember sitting next to him at a baseball game. Fragments.” 

“He was a good soldier.” Fili took another drag then handed Kili the roach back. There was enough for a last hit which Kili sucked in desperately. “Decorated. He used to tell me stories about the war. Liberating the camps...I thought he was a hero.” 

“He was. So are you.” Kili offered. 

“Am I?” Fili shook his head, eyes beginning to go glassy. “None of it felt heroic. It felt...ugly and harsh. I wasn’t brave. Just too scared to do anything other than what I was told. Another story for another day, right?” 

“Right.” 

“This stuff smells like shit.” 

“Mhm.” Kili stubbed the roach out on Marigold’s roof then flicked it out into the woods. “Might not matter, you know.” 

“What might not?” 

“How I feel about it. They’re talking about starting a lotto for the draft. Could be me shipping out then.” The dread of that dark cloud had clung around his shoulders since the first rumors started circulating months ago. “Used to think I might meet you out there.” 

“They won’t take you.” Fili said as firmly as if it was fact. “They can’t.” 

“Can. I’m young, fit...well. Not all the things they want, but most of them. It’s all down to chance.” 

“You’ll run.” Fili reached out, grabbing at Kili’s wrist and holding far too tightly. “You understand me? If they call you up, you run.” 

“Why? Think I’m too weak and well cared for to go to war?” 

“You’re my little brother. I’d go back if they let me instead of sending you out there.” 

“Bit of an about face from five minutes ago.” Kili turned his wrist slowly, easing Fili’s grip a little. 

“You’re just...you’ve always made me crazy, but I want to know you’ll be making me crazy in twenty years, okay? Or thirty or fifty, God willing. You go out there... doesn’t matter who you are. Death is waiting behind every corner.” 

“So you want me to become a draft dodger.” 

“If that’s what it takes.” Fili squeezed again, hard and shaking. “Promise me. You say you keep your promises, so keep this one. Promise you’ll run.” 

“Yeah,” Kili choked, “I promise. Straight to Canada.” 

“Okay.” Fili eased off slowly. “That’s good.” 

“What woke you up?” Desperate to change topics, Kili groped at straws. 

“Knew you weren’t there, I guess. I’m not used to sleeping on my own. Went from barracks to hospital beds all in a row.” 

“Funny, all I do these days is sleep alone.” 

“Since your girl died?” 

“Yeah. Since then.” Kili didn’t bother to correct him. Her life had ended even if her heart beat on. It was all semantics now. 

“Never pictured you in a relationship somehow. Guess it was me who didn’t have time figure that part out.” 

“You have time now.” 

“And who’d want me like this.” Fili gestured at his leg, then flailing slightly gave into gravity to lie beside Kili. “No woman wants a crippled husband.” 

“No?” Kili made the decision to roll another joint, drawing out another paper. “Think you’re just assuming there. Plenty of girls out there that can look beyond that for your other good qualities.” 

“You sound like Mom.” 

“She’s got her moments.” The joint took longer to form the second time around, but it held together when he lit it up. “Want?” 

“Yeah, might as well. I thought it would feel...more, somehow. Just makes me want to drift off.” 

“Told you. Edge duller.” 

They passed the joint back and forth, their fingers brushing and their mouths working around the same spit dampened paper. Even with the ugliness spilled between them, Kili thought this was the only place he’d like to be just then. 

“Yeah?” Fili yawned. “Even though it’s getting cold?” 

“Did I say that out loud?” Kili mumbled. “Shit. But yeah. Even though it’s cold.” 

“Me too. Even though I half want to punch you in the face. Still better company than anyone else. You know?” 

“I know.” Kili smiled foolishly into the darkness. “Hey, want to dig into the leftovers?” 

They finished off the ribs in their styrofoam box and split a beer. Kili fell asleep warmed from spine to skin and counting to barely five of Fili’s whistling breaths. In the morning, red eyed and cotton brained, it took him twice as long to find their destination then it should have. It was worth it though for the jaw dropped look on Fili’s face. 

“What in God’s name is that?” Fili asked, popping open the door and sliding out. 

The guitar shape of the building predominated the view. It rose in thick curves and it’s sign declared it ‘Grand Guitar: the World’s Only Guitar-Shaped Music Museum’. 

“I read about it in one of the tour books I found. Remembered how much you used to love Dad’s beat up six-string, so I thought you might like this.” Kili crunched across the gravel to Fili’s side. “Probably a little silly but-” 

“Nothing silly about it.” Fili strode forward, eyes wide and bright. 

They stayed that way all through the kitchy displays of old photographs and even older instruments. Kili lost interest after the first ten minutes and wandered into the store to give Fili the space to explore. 

“You looking for anything, sugar?” A brunette with frighteningly high pile of hair on her head asked. 

“No-wait. Yeah, actually. What’s the cheapest six string you sell?” 

It took some dickering, but she got him set up with a beaut of an instrument all dark woods and red detailing for nineteen dollars. It’d mean forgoing a night’s comfort later down the road, but he figured it’d be worth it. 

“What’s this?” Fili asked when he got back to the camper, holding a dozen informational pamphlets. Kili had propped the hardcase between their seats. 

“Missed a few birthdays. Call it a culmlative present.” 

“I can’t even play.” Fili protested, even as he reached for the case longing clear in the stretch of his fingers. 

“We’ve got plenty of time on the road. Figure it out.” 

“You can’t just-” Fili opened the case and let out an involuntary sigh. His fingers slide over the steel strings, pulling a soft hum of sound. “It’s gorgeous. Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome. Anyway, sort of self-serving. Hoping you’ll figure out a few songs before we reach a dead spot signal wise for the radio.” 

“You’ll be listening to a lot of confused plucking.” The case got shucked aside, the guitar cradled in Fili’s arms. Kili had once been held there, Fili’s chin tucked on his shoulder and their arms serpentined together. 

“There’s a book.” Kili fished the glossy thing out from under his seat. “Chords and how tos. Figure that’d give you a start.” 

Before Kili had pulled out of the parking lot, the book spread over the dash and the first sorrowful notes echoed through the camper.


	4. Tennessee to Wisconsin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Drug use (consensual and non-consensual), discussion of period attitudes about the war, PTSD. Anachronistic album is anachronistic by six months.

“Tell me again why we’re going North?” Fili asked over a blue plate special. 

It was the middle of the night and they were on one of those long stretches of highway that could roll on forever. Driving for nine hours had left Kili stiff and dreamy, unmoored from things like hunger and thirst. It had taken Fili throwing an empty Coke can at his head to get his attention and demand they stop for something to eat. 

“House on the Rock. This guy built a crazy thing on a cliff. It’s supposed to be pretty cool.” He dredged a french fry through a lake of ketchup. “We can get a room there too. Shower off the road dust.” 

“Dust isn’t the only thing we’ll be cleaning off. I think the waitress is avoiding us.” 

“It’s only been two days, how bad could it be?” 

“Bad enough, I guess.” 

She did return to deliver their dessert, a quivering cup of rice pudding for Fili and a fat slice of cake for Kili. Maybe they did reek, considering how she dumped the check in the middle of their table at the same time then departed with unseemly haste. 

“It’s trucker lot. We could sleep here and no one would care.” Fili said around a spoonful of pudding. 

“Works out. We can get in late afternoon, get a room, relax. Admire the weird house the next day. Maybe do some laundry.” 

“Sounds good to me.” Fili licked at his lips. “You’re purposely doing this, aren’t you?” 

“Doing what?” Kili stabbed into the cake. 

“Taking us out of the way. Making it last longer.” 

“Well, yeah. It’s a road trip, not a race.” 

“I just don’t get why.” Fili’s spoon carved an anxious circle. “Why plan this?” 

“I waited three years to get my brother back.” The cake crumbled under the tines. “I wasn’t going to give you a slap on the back and then disappear back across the country.”

“There’s a lot of space between that and this.” Fili reached across the table, tapped his hand with two fingers. An old signal, long forgotten. A silent ‘you okay?’, the check-in during long family dinners. “Hey.” 

“Missed you.” Kili shrugged, dismissing it even as he said it. “I didn’t want us to be strangers to each other.” 

“Jesus, Kili. Like I’d ever let that happen.” 

“But you did. I did.” He chewed through the cake, sandy in his mouth now. “Short little letters, further and further apart. That’s not brotherhood. Not the way we had it.” 

“That was different. I couldn’t see you. Couldn’t know if you were-” Fili stopped. “Okay. Point taken.” 

“Exactly.” 

They smoked a joint that night and Fili took to it as if he’d been smoking weed all his life. They didn’t dare crack open the van doors, so the smoke lingered inside baking them into insensibility and helpless giggles. It was childhood all over again, staying up too late, making each other laugh until their mother came in and told them to quiet down. 

The drive in the morning wasn’t too bad, a rumbling four hours punctuated with Fili’s jumping fingers over the guitar strings. He’d worked out a chord or two, strumming them over and over passed annoyance and into a kind of lulling rhythm that matched the hum of Marigold’s tires. 

“I guess you listen to a lot of strummy folk.” Fili said when his fingers had turned red from the strings. “Hum along feel good stuff.” 

“Nah. I mean, I like protest music and all, but I’m pure rock and roll at heart. Rolling Stones, The Animals, maybe the Beatles if I’m feeling more mellow. I got to like Blood, Sweat and Tears too though they’re sort of in between. You’ll see when we get to my place, I’ve got a pretty big record collection.” 

“The Stones.” Fili shook his head. “Seriously? Before the Beatles?” 

“Any day. You Can’t Always Get What You Want is probably my favorite song of all time. That chorus, the vocals...the lyrics. I love it.” He hummed a few bars, grinning. “You can’t always get what you want....But if you try sometimes...” 

“You get what you need.” Fili said solemnly. “Fair enough. I’d still take Elenor Rigby any day.” 

“Are you kidding me? That has got to be the most depressing song going.” 

“Maybe.” Fili put his intact foot up on the dash, the toes freed of socked confines. His toes wiggled a little as he sang in a surprisingly deep baritone, “All the lonely people, where do they all come from?” 

“Ahh...all the lonely people, where do they all belong?” Kili sang back. 

It wasn’t until the song had trailed off and they’d launched into Taxman that it occurred to Kili that _Revolver_ was the last album they’d listened to together before Fili had shipped out. Their mother had bought it though she claimed to hate all things English. Fili was on leave, wearing the crisp uniform that Kili both admired and despised. They’d spent the night memorizing the new lyrics, singing along with the album when they could. 

Kili had fallen asleep on the living room floor. When he woke, Fili had already gone, leaving behind the album and the faded sensation of a kiss pressed against Kili’s forehead. Newly sixteen and flooded with hormones, he’d dashed the record against the wall watching it fracture into three jagged pieces. His mother never asked what happened to it. When he got to California, he bought another copy second hand without a thought, the memory already faded. 

“Could you listen to records over there? I mean, how could you?” 

“We had radio. Sometimes at night they’d play full records to keep the air from going dead. And some of the officers had players, though they didn't always survive the damp. They’d share them on quiet nights. You figured it out.” Fili’s toes went still. “It’s the little things that keep you from losing your goddamn mind, you know. Music. Decent food once in awhile. Friends. There was this guy, I can’t remember his real name anymore. We all called him Bear. He could make a deadly night sleeping in the damn jungle into a campfire sleepover, swear to God.” 

“Yeah? How?” 

“Couldn’t really explain it. Something about how he carried himself. He was huge and he always had a smile, a joke. He seemed to know when someone was flagging and start marching next to them, tell them a story, get a laugh out of them. I think about him a lot.” 

“What happened to him?” Kili almost didn’t ask, but Fili didn’t sound sad. 

“He lost an eye. I wasn’t clear on the details. Someone said nerve gas, but I don’t think it works that way. Probably friendly fire. That happened too much and they’d always give a different official story. Some idiot pulls a pin on a grenade too soon or throws it too weakly. Get turned around in the middle of a fire fight. So you know. He’s half-blind, but he got honorably discharged same as me. Only a few weeks before too.” 

“Maybe you should look him up.” 

“Maybe. It’d help if I could remember his actual name.” Fili shrugged. “So we figured out the music stuff. You made do.” 

“Necessity is the mother of invention, I’ve heard.” 

“You don’t know the half of it.” 

They arrived at a shady looking hotel only a few miles away from the House on the Rock, booking a room from a mousey clerk that looked between them with a tepid smile. 

“One room or two?” She asked, voice going high and low again. 

“One.” Kili flicked through the bright colored tourist brochures. “ For one night, please.” 

“Oh.” She blinked rapidly. 

“Two beds.” Fili clarified with a downturn to his lips.

“Oh.” She said again. 

Ten dollars later, they had access to a room with surprisingly clean sheets and unsurprisingly filthy carpets. 

“I’m going to take a shower.” Fili declared as soon as the door shut behind them. 

“Leave me some hot water.” Kili curled up on the bed closest to the door. There was a television, tiny, black and white, terrible reception, but there. The Flintstones were on and he let the familiar jerky animation wash over him. Out of habit, he started combing through his hair, picking out knots. It was down to his waist these days, wild with the early humidity of the brewing summer weather. His face hadn’t kept pace, producing only a mangy bit of stubble before giving up on beard growing altogether. He wondered if he could coax Fili into growing out his hair a little. It’d look good, those blond tamed waves falling around the strong line of jaw and dimpled chin. 

“Kili?” 

“Hmm?” 

“You awake? Called your name three or four times.” 

“Yeah, I’m awake. Sorry.” He stretched, his loose shirt riding up over his stomach. 

“Shower’s free.” Fili sounded a little choked, but when Kili looked up, he’d already turned to his duffel bag. “Laundry tomorrow would be a good idea. I’ve only got one pair of underwear left.” 

“We should kit you out a little better. Stop at a Caldor’s or something.” 

“It’s fine. I don’t need stuff.” 

“You need some stuff, you communist.” Kili got to his feet, grimacing at the gritty carpet under his bare soles. 

“Living light doesn’t make me a communist.” 

“Everyone knows that real Americans buy things like there’s no tomorrow.” 

“Guess I’m one of those fake Americans.” 

Kili poked him as he walked into the bathroom, “Feel real enough to me!” 

“Only eighty percent.” Fili grumbled. 

“It’s like half a leg. Only worth five percent at most.” 

Something heavy thudded against the bathroom door as Kili closed it. He hoped it wasn’t the prosthetic, unsure of how one went about repairing something like that. The shower itself was a cramped, moldy affair, but the water was hot and plentiful, so he couldn’t complain. He watched his skin turn pink then red under the heat, unraveling muscles knit hard together after too many hours in the driver’s seat. 

He stared down at his quiescent cock, unstirred by much anything these last twelve months. At fifteen, he had prayed for such silences and now that it had come, it disturbed him on a level he hadn’t expected. It was a little like being robbed without recourse, leaving behind a lackluster hole where once there had been easy joy. 

“Fuck you.” He told his dick, then sighed and scrubbed clean with the sliver of cheap soap Fili had left behind. 

The tiny shampoo bottle was mostly intact and he tackled his hair with grim determination. When he emerged in a cloud of steam, it was to the sweet smell of fast food and Fili passed out with a hamburger still clutched in one hand. 

“What is with you and all the sleep?” Kili asked the dead air, plucking the burger free and taking a bite. Too much ketchup. There were fries and another burger in the bag which he assumed were for him. 

Restless, he swiped the key and went for a walk down the cluttered local route. Cars flew sightlessly by him as he took in the cluster of bars, mini golf courses and convenience stores. There was a certain sameness to these places that he’d come to expect, no matter the names picked out in lights or road signs. 

“And they’ve all gone to look for America.” He sang to himself. “Let us be lovers we’ll marry our fortunes together...” 

Sometimes he could remember no other life, but this. Alone under indifferent stars, journeying from one blank city to another. A single anchored point suddenly unmoored and set adrift. The melancholy thought chased him back to the room and into bed, dragging him all the way down through dark blurry dreams. 

“Well,” Fili said the next day, sunglasses firmly in place and a cigarette hanging from his lips, “at least you know your place in the grand scheme of things.” 

“Tiny and meaningless?” 

“Small. But important.” 

The laundromat was mostly empty, one withered old woman clacking knitting needles together and keeping an eye on them as if they might leap up and attack at any moment. Kili kept shooting her bigger and bigger smiles when he caught her staring. He sat on top of the dryer, enjoying the warmth and vibration. 

“That’s not how it feels.” He complained. 

“What do you want me to tell you?” Fili sighed, leaning against a washer. “Everyone gets like that sometimes. It’s a part of life.” 

“Is it?” Kili pushed his hair back off his face. “I’m not sure if that makes it better or worse.” 

“Don’t look at me. When I feel like that I knock back a drink and think about Mom’s chocolate chip cookies.” 

“Why?” 

“Because the drinking makes the feeling stop and the cookies reminds me there are simple good things in the world.” 

The bell on the door rang, both of their heads snapping up to evaluate the newcomer. 

A dapper older man in a grey linen suit leaned a little on a beautifully carved oaken cane. In his other hand was a small basket of laundry, a thick book settled at the top. Kili dismissed him and turned back to Fili, 

“Maybe we should get drunk tonight.” He suggested. 

“I know him.” Fili was frowning. “I swear, it’s the strangest thing. I’ve seen him, but a long time ago-” 

“My God.” The dapper man said with a crisp British accent. “I’d recognize those noses anywhere. You aren’t Thorin’s nephews are you?” 

“Um.” Kili blinked.

“We are.” Fili held out his hand. “I’m Fili, sir. This is my brother Kili.” 

“No need for sirs.” The handshake was rejected in favor of a strong hug. “Let me look at you both. How the time does pass. Last I saw you, you’d just mastered reading your first letters. Kili there, he had started walking only a few weeks before.” 

“Gandalf.” Fili’s eyes were bright. “I remember you came on the fourth of July. Mom said you brought the fireworks with you.” 

“Exactly so.” He laughed, an infectious belly laugh that warmed Kili to him considerably. “What brings you boys to my little corner of the world?” 

“We’re on our way back to California. Well, I’m going back, Fili’s going to see it for the first time.” Kili slid off the dryer. “Thought we’d take a look at the House on the Rock.” 

“That hoary tourist attraction?” Gandalf sniffed. “If you must, but first, you should come to my house and let me make you dinner. Can’t be much decent food on the road.” 

“Um.” Kili looked to Fili, who was already nodding along in agreement. All right then. “Sure, that’d be great.” 

It wasn’t a hardship to give up their nasty little room and drive Marigold the four or five miles to Gandalf’s home. It was a lovely brick affair, tucked off the road with a garden grown wild with roses, lavender and thyme. The smells dizzied Kili as they moved up the cluttered walkway, apple blossoms cascading down around them. 

“I had a dream like this once.” Kili said quietly while they waited for Gandalf to answer the door. “A sea of grass that went on in every direction.” 

“Dreamy Kili. Getting lost in your own head.” Fili tsked, his eyes bright with approval. 

“Come in, come in.” Gandalf flung open the door. “It won’t do you any good to linger on the stoop. I’ve already got something on the stove and something else in the oven, but for the life of me I can’t remember which I put where.” 

The house was painted in a thousand shades of grey and white, each wall burdened with bowing bookshelves. Where the shelves could hold no more, the books tumbled to the floor in shaky piles. The furniture was all old, but clean and serviceable. Dark brown leather creaked with Kili folded himself into one of the wingback chairs shoved incongruously in around the small kitchen table. 

“I like to be comfortable no matter where I am.” Gandalf waved a hand. “Why should the living room have all the joy?” 

“Makes sense to me.” Kili sipped at the potent dark stout that Gandalf had poured all around without asking if anyone wanted it. There was an oaken taste that lingered on the tongue and a faint smell of vanilla drifting up from the head. 

“Have you spoken with our Uncle lately?” Fili asked, all guest manners and reservation despite his earlier enthusiasm. 

“I can’t say I have. When I moved here, I lost touch with many people. A necessary sacrifice, I’m afraid. The position at the university was excellent and it’s far more peaceful here then the city.” 

“Do you teach?” Fili asked. Kili had become entranced with the napkin holder which he had assumed was lucite, but on closer inspection seemed carved out of a very clear and heavy crystal. 

“Chemistry. Mostly I research though. Perhaps I can show you a bit after dinner.” 

They ate a thick fragrant stew and bread still warm from oven. Kili made soft happy noises that had Fili laughing, loosening him a bit from his formal stiffness. Gandalf kept the conversation going with long practiced ease, asking them about the camper, their progress and recalling his own travels. By the time they had taken a plate of cookies into the study along with lopsided mugs brimming with Irish coffee, it was as if they were all old friends. 

“This is my newest field of interest.” Gandalf pulled a vial from the clutter around the desk. “The expansion of the mind through chemical means. Many of my colleagues disapprove, considering the fate of Mr. Leary, but I’ve got a CV a kilometer long and tenure under my belt.” 

“Chemical means?” Fili looked at the clear liquid. “What kind of chemicals?” 

“Let me guess,” Kili slammed down the rest of his coffee, “lysergic acid diethylamide.” 

“Just so!” Gandalf tapped the glass. “Though I haven’t made the mistake of taking too much of it myself which contributes to the end of so many promising studies.” 

“Wait.” Fili’s eyebrows knit together. “Acid? You mean like LSD?” 

“Yes, though my compound is somewhat modified. I’m attempting to eliminate the side effects and decrease the severity of the experience with some success. Would you care for a dose?” 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Kili said immediately. 

“I’d be happy to look after you, if that’s your concern. As I said, I don’t really imbibe myself.” 

“No, it’s just-” 

“What?” Fili demanded. “Don’t think I can take it?” 

“No! Well. Yes, a little. Really if you’ve never done it before-” 

“And you have, of course.” 

“A few times. It’s sort of intense, okay? I’m just-” 

“I’ll try it.” Fili said, his chin lifted in stubborn defiance. 

“Good, good!” Gandalf already had two sugar cubes in the palm of his hand. “Let this melt in your mouth, there’s a good fellow. Kili?” 

“If he’s doing it, I probably-” He began, cut off by Fili’s hand clapping over his mouth and sweetness spilling over his tongue. When he could speak again, he only barely reigned in his temper, “Are you crazy? What if I had a reaction? What if I didn’t want to go fucking tripping?” 

“Then I’d feel very bad about it in the morning.” Fili shrugged. “But you were going to say no for stupid reasons. I’m not fragile.” 

“Who said you were?” Kili groaned. “Shit. Where’s the best place to ride this out?” 

“Hmm.” Gandalf looked utterly unconcerned. “You’ve free range of the house. Nothing here that can’t be fixed if it gets broken.” 

“I don’t feel anything.” Fili started looking at a line of books. 

“Oh, you will.” Kili steadied his breathing, preparing himself. “It doesn’t take long.” 

“Stop being dramatic. How bad could it be?”

They woke up the next morning curled together under the dining room table with a blanket thrown over them and a couch cushion under their heads. Kili didn’t open his eyes right away, taking the time to recover what he could of the night before. 

_“You’ll lose some of it.” She told him, her breath curled into his ear. “It’s inevitable. The mind isn’t meant to hold on to that kind of insight. But if you take your time coming around, then you can grasp fragments, put them to your lips, bite down and make them stay.”_

_“I was with him.” He confessed, sinking deeper into her embrace. “I traveled over the ocean and slept beside him in on the wet ground.”_

_“That’s good.” She kissed the line of his jaw. “How was he?”_

_“Tired. Hurting. Emptied out. Do you think it was real?”_

_“I think it’s as real as making a telephone call or praying.”_

_“Those are two very different things.”_

_“Guess you’ll just have to decide for yourself then.”_

The trip had started gentle. He could recall the colors of the room intensifying, Fili starting to laugh at something he couldn’t see. It had gone south quickly though just as he’d feared. Some malicious spirit haunted Fili most of the night, chasing him from room to room, raising the hair on the back of his neck and whispering foulness into his ear. Kili tried to keep up with him, but roadblocks in the shape of naked blue skinned nymphs and stampeding horses worked to separate them. Cowering under the table to catch his breath, Fili had at last crawled in beside him, eyes blown wide, fingers trailing neon green as they gestured wildly. Kili had whispered the names of constellations, broken lyrics and nursery rhymes, a harmless powerless chant that lulled them both into sleep. 

“Oh God.” Fili groaned, rolling onto his back. It drew him closer to Kili somehow, the yeasty smell on his breath enveloping them both. 

“I fucking well told you so.” Kili grumbled. 

“You did. You really did. I think I’m going to vomit.” 

Between the two of them, they managed to get Fili to the bathroom before he lost everything he’d eaten the day before. The prosthetic had been tossed aside early in last nights proceedings and while Fili held his head under the cold tap, Kili went hunting for it. 

“Out here!” Gandalf called and Kili padded outside onto a cobblestone patio that looked out into a tangled wood. A hammock hung between two trees and there Gandlf lay, pipe between his teeth and the prothstic propped up against him. “Picked it up on my way outside. Meant to set it down.” 

“No problem.” Kili plucked a cigerette from his pocket, holding it out in silent imploration. Gandalf chuckled as he lit it. “I don’t have a headache, I’ll give you that for your mix.” 

“Far pleasanter.” Gandalf agreed. “I tucked a bit extra into your camper. In case you want to try again on your journey. Exorcise a few of his demons and yours and you might find the experience a good deal more pleasant.” 

“If I knew how to do that, we would’ve flown to California.” Kili plunked himself down in the grass, ignoring the cool seep of morning dew through his pants. 

“Just keep talking. One of you will crack eventually.” A smoke ring blew upward, framing a passing bird before it dwindled away. “I wonder if you’d do something for me.” 

“What?” Kili asked warily. 

“I’ve a friend that lives off the land, refuses to get a proper address. I’d like to send a letter to him, but...impossible, you understand? So if you wouldn’t mind stopping in your travels...” 

“Where?” 

“Wyoming. I’ll have to write out directions. You’ll have to walk apace. The roads get too narrow for dear Marigold.” 

By the time Fili had recovered, Kili had the letter and directions folded in the glove compartment next to the bottle of acid that he was seriously considering chucking out on the side of the road. He wasn’t sure if he would deliver the letter yet. When the time came, he’d make up his mind. Fili looked too pale and shaky to even bother consulting. 

“Have a nap.” Kili suggested. “The damn House isn’t going anywhere.” 

“I couldn’t sleep if I wanted too. The walls keep breathing and it's distracting as hell. Let’s just go see what we came to see.” 

They waved goodbye to Gandalf and drove up the winding mountain. The House was indeed on a rock as advertised, a glassy monstrosity that welcomed them inside along with a dozen more wholesome tourists. Everyone shot them odd looks, taking in their slept in clothes, Kili’s wild hair, Fili’s pallor and both their bloodshot eyes. 

"This might've been a bad combination.” Fili murmured as they walked along a glass enclosure that jutted out over empty space. “What is this place?” 

“Someone’s fantastic vision.” A tour guide chirped, ready to launch into a spiel. 

“I had a vision.” Fili said solemnly, sliding the oversized sunglasses over his nose. “For now we see through a glass, darkly, but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.” 

“Um.” The guide looked to Kili imploringly. 

“Read the Bible once and awhile, why don’t you?” Kili was in no mood to be kind. “Come on Father Leary, let’s get you back to the monastery.” 

“Lead on my son.” Fili gestured imperiously. 

Security shadowed them all the way back outside. Kili counted it as a win that no local cops showed up to tail them out of town. Beside him, Fili stared impassively out the window. 

“What was that?” Kili finally asked. 

“The imperfection of manmade insight.” Fili told the window. “We have mirrors, but they don’t reflect the soul. So how do I know that I have done good or evil?” 

“Because we’ve seen evil.” Kili said immediately. “And we know what it looks like.” 

“Have we?” The sunglasses locked Fili’s face away, a carnival mask and a wall. 

“I have. And you aren’t it.” 

“You don’t know though. You weren’t there in the jungle and the sweat and the blood. You don’t know what I did.” 

“I forgive you, whatever it was.” 

“You can’t do that.” Fili rubbed at the tip of his nose. Whatever last weak grasp the drug held on him, left him looking all too small. Diminished in the passenger seat into the child Kili never saw him as. “You can’t wave a wand and make the past disappear.” 

“I can’t.” Kili agreed. “But forgiving isn’t forgetting. You’re forgiven.” 

“Not by God.” 

“Yeah well. Fuck Him.” 

“That’s blasphemous.” 

“Well spotted.” 

“Kili.” His name breathed across the space between them, infinitely tired, worn and loved. 

“Yeah, Fi?” 

“I’m going to take a nap until Marigold stops singing, okay?” 

“Have a glass of water first.”

It wasn’t that Kili didn’t know what Fili might mean. He had crouched around a flicking television with other terrified civilians, watching the anchors report atrocities with pinched mouths. Child killers. Rapists. Murderers. Vets took off their uniforms before their feet were steady on American soil or bared their teeth in challenge. 

Fili couldn’t be those things. He had a face, a name. He wasn’t some mook in a uniform, some easy target to the confused rage of those left behind. Whatever Fili had done, it would have been because he thought it was the right thing in the moment. Kili had to believe that. Had to forgive if he was wrong. He simply could not live in a world where his brother was unforgivable. 

Kili had no god. No idols. He barely had beliefs, a loose collection of theories standing in where religion had once been. The only faith he had held from cradle to this bleeding edge of manhood was in Fili. It put too much weight on shoulders gone frail in separation, but Kili couldn’t change it now. 

“I forgive you.” Kili repeated, pulled over on the side of the road hours later, fingers shaking and his breathing gone ragged. 

Fili curled tighter into himself, the blanket exposing just his forehead and the first wispy hint of returning curls. Kili leaned in, pressed a kiss to that thin strip of skin. Benediction the only way his ragged soul knew how to deliver it.


	5. From Wisconsin to South Dakota, Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is only half of this leg of the voyage. Too much happened to squeeze it into one. 
> 
> Warning: PTSD episode, animal on animal violence (off screen), wounded animal (no death)

They fight in Sioux Fall. It was meant to be a quick rest stop, maybe throw together some lunch then continue on their way toward Keystone. The worst thing was Kili had no idea what the fight was about. One minute things were fine and the next, Fili turned furious picking on Kili’s questionable driving practices until Kili retaliated with a few old insults and it all slid downhill from there. 

Fili had practically ran from the camper when they pulled into the rest stop, muttering death as he stormed away. Kili watched him go, helpless and impossibly irritated. A young man with greasy hands waited at the pump, a trucker hat pulled over his eyes. 

“Fill it with unleaded.” Kili sighed. 

“Got problems?” The guy asked. 

“You could say that.” 

“Looks like he’s just out of something nasty.” 

“The war.” Kili agreed. 

“I know something about that.” The man scratched at his beard. “It’ll put a temper on you.” 

“He used to be so level headed. Calm. Like a rock, you know?” 

“Bet he never really was. Men go into war, they got to face some ugly truths about themselves.” The pump rattled and began spewing into the Marigold with a hungry suck. “Gotta be patient with him. My wife, she keeps making pies like she can just sweeten me the rest of the way home.” 

“Does it work?” 

“Sometimes.” The man shrugged. “Sometimes it’s just the listening while eating the pie. You’ll have to pay inside for the gas.” 

Kili bought a few packs of Lucky Strikes and a box of Twinkies while he was at it. It wasn’t pie, but Fili had always liked them. He killed some time browsing magazines and wound up with two copies of Billboard. The attendant was gone when he got back out and Marigold’s needle pointed to full. Still no Fili in sight, Kili parked among the trucks and settled in to read and fret. 

Another hour went by and fretting became full blown panic. He was about to go out searching when someone knocked at Marigold’s back door. Kili ran down the tiny aisle, almost cracking his head on an open cabinet door. He pushed the back open and stopped in his tracks. 

“I can explain.” Fili clutched a ragged dirty, bloody ball of fur to his chest. “But we need to get to some kind of veterinarian first.” 

“Jesus wept.” Kili moved aside and started running again. The woman behind the counter gave him lazy directions while he vibrated with repressed frustration. By the time he got back to the car, Fili had wrapped the messy tuft up in a towel, talking softly to it. 

“How far?” Fili asked, eyes wide with fear that lanced through Kili. 

“Fifteen miles. Just...hold on.” 

Marigold preferred to cruise along comfortably at about forty-five miles an hour. On a good day, she’d cough out fifty. Kili shoved her all the way up to sixty-five, tearing down back country roads with reckless caution. Fili didn’t say a word in protest. 

The vet had a modern clean lined building with a wide open front door that Kili barreled into, panting and exhausted. 

“Hello?” He called to the empty waiting room. 

"Good afternoon.” A lean man in a stark white lab coat popped his head around the tall desk. “I’m Dr. Elrond. My receptionist took the afternoon off.” 

“Please.” Fili arrived in the doorway, breathless. “This dog needs help. I think he was in a fight.” 

“Right this way.” The veterinarian unfolded from his chair a surprisingly long way. He walked briskly down the hall and into an bright examining room. Reluctantly, Fili set the dog down on the metal table and backed away. There was blood on his shirt and a wild gleam that Kili didn’t like in his eye. 

Dr. Elrond bent over the table, briskly removing the towel and shielding the dog from their view. Fili made a soft distressed sound and instinctively, Kili reached out to capture his hand. He waited to be rebuffed, but Fili only clung on. They stood like that for hours or maybe some very long minutes. 

“She’ll need stitches.” Dr. Elrond straightened up at last. “In at least two places. And a hot bath. I can do both.” 

“We can pay.” Kili said quickly. “I mean, she isn’t ours, but Fili found her so...” 

“No collar.” Fili swallowed. “She was thin.” 

“I don’t think anyone has been looking out for her for a long time.” 

Kili glanced over at Fili, read whatever he could in the stony lines of his face, before he said, 

“We’ll take her. If you think she’ll be okay to travel for a bit.” 

Fili went mute after that. They sat in the waiting room, drinking burnt coffee and reading ancient magazines. Well, Kili read and drank. Fili stared into space as present as one of the plastic chairs. 

“Here we go.” Dr. Elrond emerged around dinnertime with a much cleaner and quite sedated dog. She had a nice face, black nosed and lean. Washed, her coat proved longer than Kili expected and a pleasant mottled gray color. “I’d guess she’s some kind of terrier. Tenacious. Probably got in a fight with a rat by the look of the scratches. Went looking for dinner and got a face full of claws. Lots of bacteria under rat claws, so I’m going to give you an antibiotic. Wrap it in cheese and she’ll take it like a champ.” 

Wordless, Fili held out his arms and Dr. Elrond rested the tiny body into them. She roused enough to lick idly at Fili’s arm. Kili closed his eyes and willed his heart not to break. 

“Will she be okay?” Fili asked, sounding rusty as he had that first day in the hospital. 

“As long as you give her the medication, she should make a full recovery.” Dr. Elrond gave Fili a reassuring smile. “I’m guessing you boys don’t have anything in the way of dog food or a leash?” 

“No, sir.” Kili grimaced. “We’re not really from around here, but if you could direct us-” 

“I’ll get you started. I board dogs frequently and I always keep extras on hand. You’ll want to get a proper tag for her, but I can give you everything else.” 

“Thank you.” Kili sat up a little straighter. “That’s very kind of you.” 

“Not everyone would have done what you boys did.” Dr. Elrond’s eyes flicked over to Fili. “Rat bites aren’t much good on young men either.” 

Fili stared at him, hard and flinty for so long that Kili almost started apologizing on his behalf. 

“Fine.” Fili held out his arm, the sleeve riding up to show off a nasty looking wound. Kili inhaled sharply. 

“Why didn’t you-” 

“Can you take care of it?” Fili interrupted. “I’m not crazy about hospitals.” 

“Well...” 

“Please.” Fili brought the dog closer to his chest. A hospital probably wouldn’t let him in with a fluffy attachment, Kili realized. 

“Just don’t sue me. It’s been awhile since I had a bipedal patient” Dr. Elrond headed back to the examination room. 

Whatever he said, Dr. Elrond’s hand was steady as he cleaned out the bite mark and swabbed it with a thick ointment. After some evaluation, he didn’t stitch it closed, only applied a white bandage. Quietly he doubled the amount of pills for the dog. 

“They’re the same thing.” He explained in a hush to Kili. “Just give the dog two a day and him one. Cheaper than if you had to go to a regular pharmacy.” 

“You’re a God send. Thank you.” Kili paid him twice what he asked and stuck his hands in his pockets when Dr. Elrond tried to return some of it. “You saved us.” 

“I think you’re saving yourselves. And that poor pup. Let me get you those supplies.” 

Maybe the doctor returned some of the money by giving them the food, plastic dishes, collar and leash, but Kili wasn’t about to complain. He couldn’t imagine getting back on the road and searching for the right kind of store. 

With Fili trailing behind him, he loaded the supplies into the camper then stopped dead and rested his head on the cabinet. He wanted to sleep. He wanted to scream. He wanted to be anywhere else for just a few minutes. 

“What happened?” He asked instead, listening to Fili settling on their bed. 

“I stormed off.” Fili said blandly. 

“I remember that part.” 

“I went into the field. I didn’t know where I was going. Just wanted to walk off whatever was eating me.”

“Okay.” Kili took a steadying breath. “And then?” 

“I heard someone scream in pain. And then...it was..” 

“Fi?” Reluctantly, Kili looked up. Fili was staring into space again, one hand splayed gently over the dog’s chest. 

“I was back there. Breathing in fire and blind.” He choked out. “I ran towards it. Wanted to...I don’t know. I was in the field and I was in the flames all at once. People were screaming. I saw this tiny vulnerable thing, fighting for its life against a terrible monster. I couldn’t stand for it. Not...never again. I ripped it off. I think I threw it. Maybe killed it. I can’t remember. That must’ve been when it bit me.” Fili tore his gaze away from that other place back down to the animal asleep in his lap. “She was crying, bleeding. It took me too long to pick her up. To get back to where I needed to be.” 

“You did it though. You got her back.” Kili said slowly. “She’s going to be okay.” 

“She is.” Fili’s smile was so quick that Kili couldn’t be sure it had ever existed. “She will.” 

The plastic bag from the filling station still sat next to the sink. Kili reached in and pulled out two plastic wrapped sets of Twinkies. He took them over to the bed, kneeling down beside Fili, opening the first one and handing him the little yellow cake. 

“Oh. Thanks.” Fili took it, holding it numbly for an instant. 

The dog’s head flew up startling both of them. Her button black nose scented the air twice and then she took the cake neatly out of Fili’s hand and downed it two bites. Then she licked the residue off his fingers and fell back asleep. 

“She’s a thief!” Kili howled, falling backwards as he laughed. “You adopted a little thief!” 

“She’s not a thief.” Fili scowled, but it twitched around the edges. “She’s just...post surgery hungry.” 

“We can call her Bandit!” 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Rascal?” 

“No.” 

“Pickpocket?” 

“That’s not even a proper name.” 

“What about Bonnie? You know, like Bonnie and Clyde?” 

“Hm.” Fili rubbed a knuckle over the top of Bonnie’s head.

“She even drives around with us. It definitely works.” Kili gave Fili the other Twinkie. 

“I can live with Bonnie.” Fili bit into it before Bonnie could lift her head again. 

That night there was an addition to the bed. There had been no conversation on the matter, just the curve of Fili’s body huddled around the dog and Kili curled around them both. Kili had too much else to think about to put up a fight.


	6. From Wisconsin to South Dakota, Part 2

_The air burned. He forced down lungfuls anyway, running through unfamiliar terrain with the breath of a dragon on the back of his neck. Ahead of him, a line of men in green and brown, hunched and creeping. They moved in unison, molasses slow and whisper silent._

_All he could see their deaths coming, a wall of metal and heat that would sear flesh from bone._

_“No!” He cried out and one soldier in the line froze. Turned to look for the voice in the wind. The others moved on._

_The others. The sound was deafening and shook the bones in his skin. It woke him, found him on the nappy carpet of the apartment floor next to the bed._

_“I saw him, baby.” He told the ceiling. He didn’t bother climbing into the bed. Empty and cold now. “I think I died.”_

_Kili wept right there on the floor, openly and without shame, the way he only could when coming down from a high. When he finished the crash, he swept up all the rest of the blotters and sugar and flushed it. He’d taken his last trip. Lighting a joint to take off the last of the edge, he closed his eyes and tried to forget the flash of blue eyes across a field of burned flesh._

“So there’s this letter.” Kili told Fili the next morning while Bonnie sniffed out every square inch of Marigold and informed them in vehement, if miniature barks, how she found everything. “Gandalf asked me to deliver it to a friend of his.” 

“Why didn’t you mention it before?” 

“Because I wasn’t sure we should do anything that he wanted us too. I don’t like how he operates.” 

“Mhm.” Fili stretched out his hand and Bonnie came running, leaping neatly into his lap. Figured. Why should Kili be the only one so well trained? “It’s just a letter. And it’s not like we don’t have the time.” 

Kili reached into the glove compartment over Bonnie’s head, receiving a lick in the process. With one flick of his wrist, he freed the letter and knocked the vial of acid further to the back of the compartment, out of Fili’s sight. The dream-memory had lingered with him through the morning, ruining the taste of his breakfast and singing in his nostrils. The last thing he wanted to think about right now was tripping. 

“He said it’s sort of off the map. There’s directions.” 

Fili took the onion paper clipped to the envelope, squinting to make out the cramped handwriting. He unfolded the map, draping it over Bonnie who panted in good humor. 

“She must’ve been someone’s pet not to long ago.” Kili decided. “She’s too sweet to be wild.” 

“You can be both.” Fili said absently, trailing a finger along the spidery interstates. “This is a few hours past Rushmore. Let’s do the tourist thing then head to Wyoming.” 

“Okay.” Kili started the ignition and eased back onto the road. It wasn’t okay. He wanted to pitch the letter out the window, but the trip was about letting the road guide them and Fili seemed mellower with it decided. 

Bonnie seemed to like traveling. She spent most of the ride with her back paws on Fili’s lap and the front balanced on the dashboard, watching out the window. When Fili rolled down his window, she hopped over to stick her nose out, stumpy tail wagging delightedly. She had a near magical effect on Fili, drawing out long steady smiles and even a few aborted laughs. 

Eventually she settled, apparently content to sleep draped over her savior’s feet. Freed from encumbrance, Fili took up his guitar and added a new chord to his repertoire. As they wound through the back roads, Kili spotted another camper van with a few familiar bumper stickers. The driver pulled up alongside them and a man with a beard and smiling eyes leaned out the open window to shout, 

“Are you going to the festival?” 

“What festival?” Kili shouted back. 

“Oh maaaaan, you gotta come!” He leaned further out, risking falling from the van. “Mindblowing music, my man.” 

Kili glanced at Fili, who raised an eyebrow in challenge. 

“Lead on!’ Kili yelled back, a sudden giddiness rocking through him. He missed the live music that trickled out of every alley of San Fransisco, the concerts that he’d gone to where he sat on damp blankets and stared at clouds. The music seemed visceral then, brushing over his skin and pouring into his mouth. 

The concert wasn’t far and it was definitely the open air event that Kili had been hoping for. A hundred or so hippies had already converged on the open field, chattering and laughing. A girl with stars in her eyes threw daisy chains around them as they clamored out of Marigold. Bonnie danced in dizzy circles, nearly toppling Fili more than once as she wound her leash around him. 

They found an empty enough spot not too far from the makeshift stage. There weren’t any big names being bandied about, mostly Midwestern folk bands that roamed around looking for pocket size audiences and a few coastal people on their way to somewhere else. 

“Far out, right?” Two girls crashed down beside them, brunette sisters holding matching fat joints. The older one grinned toothily at them. “Where are you guys from?” 

“Brooklyn.” Kili smiled back. “How about you?” 

“Nowhere that fun. Sioux Falls originally, but we’re hitching down to Florida. Get some sun and find a new future, you know?” 

“You’re going the wrong way.” Fili pointed out, lifting up onto his elbows. 

“Are we?” The girl gave him a speculative look. “I’m Amber. This is my sister Pearl.” 

“Parents had a theme going? Ours too.” Kili laughed, making introductions all around. 

The girls shared their joints readily enough, their smoke mixing into the already clouded air. A gentle feeling pervaded the field, mellow and precious. They put Bonnie into the camper where she could snooze without twitching at every clumsy-limbed idiot that stumbled past and returned bearing food to share all around. 

Kili eyed the girls’ intake, not fast or greedy, but clearly the method of those used to not enough. He snuck beef jerky into their battered packs and a ten dollar bill beneath that. He thought he had been stealthy enough, but he found Fili’s eyes on him when he’d finished. It had gotten dark and he couldn’t tell if it was approval or disgust that tightened the lines around his mouth. 

“You should sleep out here.” Amber stretched out beside Fili, her cheek pillowed on his outflung arm. “Under the stars with us. You can see into infinity like this.” 

“Can you?” Fili took another long inhalation, smoke billowing lazily outward. “Didn’t know human eyes could do that.” 

“You’re sort of bitter.” She said through a laugh. “You’ve got to let go, man. All that heaviness will drag you down under.” 

“How do you think I should let it go?” 

“Dunno. Breath it in and breath it all out. That’s how I do it.” 

“Does that work?” 

Amber rolled over onto her back, the slope of her breasts shifting under the billowy linen dress. Pearl curled at their feet, eyes heavy lidded and near sleep. Kili wanted to go back to Marigold. To their bed. But Fili wasn’t budging and Kili had weedy lassitude slinky through his veins. Instead he stayed, watching the moon come up and listening to Amber talk in a constant dreamy disconnection. 

He couldn’t pinpoint the moment when their conversation slurred into a liquid messy kiss. He watched it from a detached distance, the way Fili put his hands around her waist and kissed as if she might shatter over him. Kili imagined her bursting into a cloud of butterflies and he had to shut his eyes against the image. 

When he opened them again, the scene had shifted to Amber straddling Fili’s waist. The wide flare of her dress hid all sins, but Kili was no stranger to the sway of hips and the cluster of choked off sounds. He watched her rise and fall, light and cloth spilling around her until she became one with the moon. Fili, near motionless beneath, seemed to drift into the shadows, lost in the tall grass and her radiance. 

Kili drifted away though his body stayed put. His consciousness roved upward, away from field, brother, moon and sense. He watched it all in the clouds, in the stars and sang himself to sleep. 

Until the dream crawled back, chasing him through damp land and filling his nose with sulfur. 

“Shhh.” Someone whispered into his ear. “It’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s okay.” 

“No.” He denied, fire raging behind his eyes. “No, it’s not.” 

“Come here, you idiot.” The ground shifted until his head rested on a hard wing of bone, the steady thud of a heartbeat drowning out a mournful tune. Fingers carded through his hair. “Go to sleep.” 

He obeyed, drifting without dreams and glad of the darkness. The first brittle light of dawn woke him and found him sprawled over Fili. The girls had already gone, only a slight indentation in the blanket betraying that they’d ever been there at all. 

“Did I dream them?” 

“No.” Fili rumbled, his voice traveling over Kili’s skin. “They caught a ride while you were talking about stars and fire.” 

“Was I?” Not yet unseated, he nuzzled in a little closer to Fili’s banked heat. 

“You said my name too.” 

“We should let the dog out.” Kili muttered, betrayed by his own unconscious mind. Again. Fantastic. 

“Take her for a walk and I’ll scare up breakfast.” 

Kili agreed reluctantly, pushing upwards and then holding the position until his head stopped swimming. The field was full of bodies, some awake, most still asleep. A lone man walked across the stage, checking equipment. 

Bonnie leaped from Marigold, hopping around Kili’s feet before peeing in the first likely spot of grass she found. He took her on a long walk to apologize for the abandonment, letting her sniff at every mysterious rock and bark at the squirrels. By the time they wound their way back, Fili and the blanket were gone. Kili scanned the field slowly, 

“He better not come back with another dog, is all I’m saying.” He said to Bonnie. 

“You looking for your friend?” A drunk stumbled by. “Went stageward.” 

“Thanks.” 

Without any more reliable direction, Kili went around the messy grounds to the stage. He heard Fili’s guitar before he saw the man himself. Eventually he saw the orthopedic shoe hanging off one side of a huge amp. 

“Food.” Fili gestured at a red studded muffin. Cranberries maybe. 

“Thanks.” Kili leaned against the edge of the stage while Bonnie tried to work out how to join Fili on the amp. Her leaps grew more and more frustrated until Kili took pity and boosted her up. 

Fili didn’t pause in playing though he didn’t stop her from licking his fingers as they moved slowly between chords. 

“You’re getting it.” A woman with red moon sunglasses and heavy beaded necklaces walked along the stage then took an easy jump onto the amp, bending down to adjust Fili’s fingering. “Better already.” 

Kili’s mouth hung open. 

“Thanks.” Fili smiled. “I don’t think I would’ve gotten that on my own.” 

“Sure you would.” She laughed, rough deep and unmistakable. “Music works its way out one way or another. Try again.” 

Fili started for the top, warming as he went and it turned recognizably into ‘Eleanor Rigby’ though he couldn’t quite make it through the bridge. 

"Closer.” She clapped him on the shoulder companionably, her bracelets clicking together. “Rock on out. I gotta catch up before my guys leave without me. Thanks for the smokes.” 

“No problem. Thanks for the lesson.” Fili didn’t even look up as she left, exiting with one whooping leap and a sprint into the grass. 

“You...don’t you...” Kili couldn’t get the words out. 

“Hm?” 

“Fi. Janis fucking Joplin.” 

“How?” Fili blinked. 

“That was Janis Joplin. Janis Joplin just gave you a guitar lesson.” 

“Should I know her?” 

“She’s only the best blues singer going. Holy shit. Shit...I couldn’t even say anything!” 

“You should see your face.” Fili laughed, setting down the guitar to finally give Bonnie her desired scritches. “She just heard me noodling around waiting for you to get back and showed me a few things in return for some of my cigs. It’s not a big deal.” 

“Not a-” Kili cut himself off. “I just really hate you right now. In a very loving brotherly way.” 

“Okay.” Fili hid a smile in Bonnie’s fur. “Whatever you say.” 

There was no way the rest of the concert could top that. They left not long after, waving goodbyes to people they’d never met and pointing themselves toward Keystone. At odd intervals, Kili could be heard groaning ‘Janis fucking Joplin’ to himself. 

“Hey, there’s the turn off.” Fili tugged at Kili’s sleeve. 

“I see it.” Kili looked down at Fili’s hand. “Any reason why you’re directing me like I’m a horse?” 

“You’ve got a mane?” Fili dropped the fabric, only to tug at one long lock of Kili’s hair. “Or is this a tail?” 

“Six of one, half dozen of the other.” Kili flushed, tilting his head forward to hide behind said mane. He’d always liked having his hair grabbed at, but this was neither the time nor the place nor the person for it. 

“You should get it out of your face at least.” Fili went on toying with it. “Let me braid it for you.” 

“Um. Okay.” He smacked himself internally. That sounded like a goddamn terrible idea actually. But it was too late to take back. 

And Fili meant business. As soon as they pulled into the crowded parking lot. Fili ordered him to the back of the van and sat him on the floor next to their bed, nestled in a the vee of Fili’s legs.

“You’re all over with knots. I think there’s grass in here.” 

“We slept outside!” Kili protested, wincing as Fili began carding the brush through the tangled locks. “Hey! That’s attached, man.” 

“I know, I know. Sorry.” 

Fili went easier after that and Kili tried to think about anything else. He couldn’t shut out the sensations though or the pleasant memories that came part and parcel with them. Without thinking about it, he tilted his head to rest against Fili’s knee as he worked. 

“Is this a hippie thing? Religious objections to scissors?” 

“I just like it. You should grown yours out. All those curls.” 

“Waves.” Fili grunted, but didn’t actually object. 

“You could look more flower child than me if you wanted. I always have a homeless drifter thing going on with the stubble.” 

“It’s not that bad.” Fili started braiding, the concentrated tugs playing all kinds of havoc on Kili’s stomach. “Suits you better than something short.” 

“Thanks.” He swallowed, drummed his fingers over the floor until Bonnie yipped at him and tried to pounce on his hand. 

“Done. Don’t have a hair tie, but it should stay.” 

Kili reached back and ran his hand over the one thick braid, then tilted his head back with a smile, 

“You’re good at this.” 

“Tell no one.” Fili said solemnly. “Come on. Let’s go look at the giant mountain faces before they go to dust.” 

It wasn’t until he went to get up that Kili felt it. 

His cock had actually managed half a stiffie. Nothing he could do anything with, but more of an attempt than it had made in far too long. He was actually happy about it for a solid twenty seconds before the why of it sunk in. 

“Coming?” Fili called out, already out the door. For the first time, Kili noticed that Fili was still wearing the daisy chain around his neck. It looked weirdly right there, peaceful and strong even with the delicate petals swaying in the breeze. 

“Yeah.” He dug his nails into his palm, the sharp prick of pain just what he needed. Not the time. Not the place. Not the person. “Right there with you.”


	7. From South Dakota to Wyoming, Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Contains descriptions of war.

The road became too rough for Marigold just as they rounded a curve of a lake so still it took on the perfect image of the sky. Miles away, twin mountains jutted upwards studded in trees. Between water and rock lay a vast field with neatly planted wheat swaying in the idle breeze. 

“If you took a picture, you could just call it ‘America’.” Fili fingers went still on the guitar strings and even Bonnie stared quietly out the window. 

“Do we walk from here?” Kili asked watching a hawk turn a slow circle in the distance. 

“Looks like.” 

That was easier said than done. The road was pitted and after some argument, Fili conceded to Kili returning to Marigold to fetch the cane. It still took them considerably more time than it would’ve if Kili had done the walk alone, but he didn’t dare suggest that Fili stay behind. For better or for worse, they were in this trip together every limping step of the way. 

The peak of a roof made itself known when they had gone roughly a mile down. A curl of smoke issued from the chimney, carrying with it the yeasty scent of bread. It had gotten cold in the night and the thought of a warm kitchen spurred them both on. Bonnie streaked ahead and then back as if encouraging them to hurry. 

A low stone fence slice through the wheat, cutting it abruptly short to demarcate a generous vegetable garden. City boy that he was, Kili couldn’t tell what exactly was growing except for the tell tale broad leaves of pumpkin. 

“Who are you?” A small boy popped his face over the fence, eyeing them with narrowed suspicion. 

“We’re travelers. Who are you?” 

The boy darted off, running down a slate stone path. 

“Mom!” He shouted. “Strangers!” 

For lack of anything else, they went on walking, coming to the gate in the fence where three stone paths met, one going straight toward a clapboard farmhouse. The door gaped open and the boy glared at them from the opening. 

“Just a minute!” A woman yelled. “Hold on!” 

She emerged still wiping her hands on towel, a streak of flour on one cheek and a neat crown of golden hair in an effortless braid circling her head. Her wave seemed friendly enough that Kili swung the gate open and let Fili start down the path. The walk hadn’t done his leg any favors, his usually mild limp gone pronounced and stiff. 

“Sorry for my son.” She held out a floury hand. “He doesn’t see many people out this far. None of us do.” 

“It’s no problem. I’m Kili, this is my brother, Fili.” He shook her hand, felt the hard calluses on her fingertips and the strength hidden in her willowy arms. Just behind her in the hallway, he could make out the lean line of a rifle. No wonder she didn’t mind greeting strangers. 

“I’m Eowyn and this rude little man is my son, Boromir. Say hello properly now.” 

“Hello.” Boromir said sullenly. 

“We’re supposed to be delivering a letter to a Mr. Brown, but our instructions to his place were a little...vague.” Fili drew out the letter in proof. “Do you know where we might find him?” 

“Oh, him.” She laughed and it was so light and easy that Kili wanted to live inside of it. “He’s out foraging, won’t be back for a day or two, I think.” 

“Someone at the door?” A man called down the hall. 

“Two boys here to deliver a letter to Radagast!” She called back. “Be a dear and put on the kettle?” 

“We don’t want to trouble you.” Kili said hurriedly. “We can leave the letter at his place or with you, if you don’t mind and be on our way.” 

“If you’ve come this far out to hand it over, best to do it person. We haven't had proper guests in far too long. Come in, come in.” 

Boromir took off and Eowyn strode after him leaving the door open behind her. 

“What do you think?” Kili muttered. 

“Well, they seem normal enough. And something hot to drink would be nice.” 

The kitchen was all brass pans and handmade cabinets painted a dreamy grey-blue. Bent over loaves of bread was a man even taller and more willowy than Eowyn. She gravitated towards him, one hand resting on the small of his back. 

“This is my husband, Faramir.” She said with obvious pride. “He was attempting to teach me how to bake, so your interruption is much appreciated.” 

“Nice to meet you.” Faramir laughed and it was broad and deep as the ocean. Kili couldn’t repress a smile even if had been trying. “Please, sit down. We’ll have a cup of tea and a bit of bread once its cooled.” 

“How did you come by a letter for our friend?” Eowyn asked as she broke off dried herbs and crushed them down into a small sieve. 

“We met a colleague of his a few days ago.” The chairs were over generous, built for taller bodies, but Kili found comfort in tucking on leg underneath him. Bonnie had hopped up onto Fili’s lap, leaving muddy footprints on his jeans. 

“Not Gandalf?” Faramir looked up from his work. 

“You know him?” 

“Too well and too rarely.” Eowyn watched the kettle with a distant gaze. “He has a knack for turning everything upside down and yet leaving it better than it was in the end. We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him.” 

“But we’re happier if he stays away.” Faramir finished her unspoken thought. “So I hope that letter isn’t about a long visit.” 

“I doubt it.” Kili watched them move around each other, Boromir a tiny moon to their twin orbits. “He seems pretty happy exactly where he is. How did you meet him?” 

“That is a very long story. Better for after dinner than with lunch.” The kettle whistled and Eowyn whisked it up, poured the heated water over the sieve. A billowing cloud of lavender, bergamot and green tea blossomed around her face. 

“Not a very interesting one either.” Faramir set thick slices of bread and a jar of strawberry jam on the table before setting himself down. “But we came out here when all was said and done. Live off the land and all that.” 

“Running water, but no electricity is what he means. I have to heat up my bathwater on the stove.” Eowyn complained, but her smile betrayed her. “We’re nearly self-sustaining.” 

“We drive Boromir to school during the year. Pick up a few odds and ends in town. Clothing mostly since none of us can sew.” Faramir slathered jam onto a slice of bread, handing it down to Boromir, who seemed content to stay under his father’s chair. 

“And we thought we were roughing it in the camper.” Fili peeled the crust from his bread. “A week on the road doesn’t really measure up.” 

Had it only been a week? Kili counted and found he wasn’t entirely sure how much time had passed. Nine days maybe? Could it be as little as seven? 

“San Francisco.” Fili answered to a question Kili hadn’t heard. “Kili lives out that way.” 

“I’ve never been to California.” Eowyn poured tea into delicate cups that stood out of place among the hardy cuts of wood. “Born in the South, made it this far and stopped. Faramir’s been though. Back when you were a marshal, right?” 

“Mhm.” Faramir swallowed. “Went all over back then. California is too bright for me though. All that sun. I like a little moody winter.” 

“You were a federal marshal?” Fili’s eyes widened, surprise obvious.

“Guess I don’t look the part any more.” Faramir raked a hand through his long hair. “But yes, for a few years. My father was in law enforcement and it seemed like the thing to do. I left it though.” 

“He’s a poet now.” Eowyn kissed his stubbled cheek, handing him a mug. “A published one.” 

“It’s only scratches.” Faramir snorted. “I’m a farmer, a father and a cook first.” 

“Lovely scratches.” She tsked and put a cup into Kili’s hands. “Drink deep. You look like your bones need warming.” 

“Kili is metalworker.” Fili offered up. 

“Sort of.” He amended, putting the cup to his lips. “I’m still learning.” 

“Oh, he’ll love that!” Eowyn took her place at Faramir’s side, gesturing at an empty chair. 

“He’ll probably talk your ear off.” Faramir agreed. “Insofar as he’ll talk at all.”

Before Kili could ask who exactly, Eowyn turned to Fili and asked, 

“When did you get back?” 

“Excuse me?” Fili blinked at her. 

“My whole family is military.” She handed down her own cup to Boromir, waiting for him to take a sip before taking it back. “I served as a nurse for a few years, but they kept me in Berlin.” 

“We nearly met then.” Fili watched her sidelong. “They kept me there for two months before they thought I was stable enough to come home.” 

“We certainly walked the same hallways. I came back seven years ago now. Hard to believe its all gone on so long.” 

“I knocked her up before she could go back.” Faramir said cheerfully. 

“I wouldn’t have gone anyway.” She rolled her eyes, punching him in the arm. 

Eowyn and Fili discussed Berlin as seen from hospital windows for a while. Kili listened closely, trying to piece together what he could. Faramir seemed content to listen as well, playing a complicated game of finger signals with Boromir. 

The conversation drifted to books, old things that Kili had never read, but Fili apparently had when there was nothing else to do in the dark of the foreign night. Faramir rejoined the conversation, adding in a list of titles that Fili seemed to absorb. 

“Do you know how to play marbles?” Boromir tapped on Kili’s knee. 

“I’m not bad at them.” He allowed, which was how he wound up under the table with handful of marbles instead of joining the adult world. 

He could see why Boromir liked it under there. The safety and warmth of the kitchen redoubled and their game took place in easy reach of beloved ankles and feet. Boromir took marbles very seriously, biting his lower lip before shooting and watching with respectful silence when Kili took his turn. 

“Would you boys like to help me pick some things for dinner?” Faramir ducked his head beneath the table, startling Kili out of an intense concentration. 

“I don’t want green beans.” Boromir frowned. 

“Well, if you want a say in what goes in your mouth, you’ll have to get up and come with me.” 

For lack of anything better, Kili followed them out into the garden. 

“Is there anything ready to eat this time of year?” He asked, looking over the stubby plants. 

“You’d be surprised. Lots of things come out in June.” Faramir kneeled among leafy sprouts. 

Was it June already? Hadn’t they left in the first breath of May or had it been the last gasp? He hadn’t thought to look at a calendar, happy to be lost in the timeless hum of Marigold’s engine.

“Strawberries.” Boromir pointed. “And spinach.” 

“Right.” Faramir laughed. “His favorites. Go get some strawberries then, lad. We’ll take care of the salad things.” 

They dug through the patch, uprooting young onions and snipping lettuce. Faramir plucked two tiny leaves , handing one to Kili and putting the other in mouth, 

“Spearmint.” He explained. “Eowyn grows it for her teas. She can’t so much as scramble an egg, but she can cure anything with the right herbs. I haven’t needed a doctor since we got married.” 

“I like tea better than pills.” Kili crushed the leaf between his teeth, pleased with the slightly bitter surge of mint. “Where’d she learn it?” 

“She claims its from books, but I think she’s a bit of a medicine woman at heart. She just knows how to cure things.” 

He couldn’t stop himself from glancing back at the house, curious now at what conversation might be going on without him. Whatever ailed Fili probably couldn’t be cured by a cup of tea or a kind word. Surely it wouldn’t be enough to mend Kili’s damages. Still. A part of him hoped anyway. 

“She’ll have taken him to feed the chickens.” Faramir caught the glance. “If he’s unlucky, she might go as far as mucking out the stables. Always work to be done around here and not enough hours in the day to do it.” 

“I don’t know how much use he’ll be. Bonnie is the biggest animal we’ve ever owned.” 

“He has a calm nature. That’s usually enough.” 

“That’s what I used to think.” Kili hoisted garlic free from it’s earthy bed, sending dirt flying. “Not seen a lot of it lately though.”

“It’s still there. Nothing quite like time as a cure all.” 

A faint sound cracked the air and Faramir sat up, alert in an instant. As it neared, resolving into hoofbeats, he jumped to his feet with a face alight in joy. The largest horse Kili had ever seen came galloping down the lane, carrying on it a shaggy, filthy rider and a brace of skinned rabbits. Before the horse could slow, the rider cast himself off its back landing neatly on his feet. He ran down the pathway, meeting Faramir midway in a bonecrushing hug. 

“You’ve been gone for ages.” Faramir scolded, even as he touched his forehead gently to the newcomer’s. “I thought you’d sleep rough another night going by the sun.” 

“I wanted to be home again.” He drew back a little, still too intimate. Kili swallowed hard and looked away, giving them a moment of privacy. 

“Aragorn!” Eowyn appeared, Faramir’s happiness echoed on her face. “You scoundrel! I was going to ride after you if you weren’t here in the morning.” 

“I came home when I had enough just as always.” He held out his arm and she rushed to fill it.   
Kili watched in confusion at their three way hug, all surety of what exactly was going on rushing away. They looked solid together, the three of them and the puzzle clicked to completion as Boromir buried his face into Aragorn’s loose pants. 

“We have guests!” Eowyn blurted when Aragorn began to dip his head in the faint suggestion of a kiss. “Gandalf sent them with a letter for Radagast.” 

“I saw his tracks on my way back.” Aragorn searched the yard, finding Kili among the radishes and garlic. “He’ll find his way home soon enough. They’re staying here?”

“Of course. They’re van is back at the main road and its bound to be chilly tonight.” 

“Are you a cabbage?” Fili had emerged at last, making his way towards Kili. “You’re halfway in the earth.” 

“I think I smell better than a cabbage.” Though to be honest, Kili thought he might have a bit of a funk on him. Given the state of Aragorn, he doubted that Eowyn and Faramir much minded. 

Dinner was a much louder affair than lunch which was odd as Aragorn had a deep silence about him. He didn’t help much with the cooking either. Instead, he sat in the chair closest to the window, smoking a pipe and listening to Boromir recount the marbles game. Yet his presence enlivened Faramir and Eowyn, increasing their chatter and warm laughs until they could’ve been a dozen people. Kili fed off their energy, livelier than he’d been in months as he cut vegetables at their direction. 

“Not so fine!” Eowyn told him, swinging down the meat cleaver. She had a deft hand at jointing the meat and Kili didn’t doubt that all of the rabbit carcasses would be put to good use. “It’ll reduce in the pot.” 

“Eyes on the sharp object.” Faramir reminded her. 

“I’ll put out your eye with a sharp object.” She rejoined merrily. 

“You like my eyes.” He ducked in for a kiss, then went back to stirring in Kili’s too finely chopped onions. 

“I don’t think this twine works the way you think it does.” Fili groused, attempting a knot around an already stuffed rabbit. 

“Like this.” Aragorn reached out and twitched his fingers twice, the knot falling into place. 

“Of course.” Fili glanced at Kili and they exchanged wordless looks of disgust at such prowess. It thrilled through Kili a little, that silent easy communication. 

When all had been picked clean and another round of tea duly drunk, Eowyn carried Boromir up to bed over vociferous protests. Everyone else went outside onto the back deck where low slung benches pulled up close to a fire pit. Aragorn lit the flames, humming something hypnotic as he worked. 

“Here.” Faramir tossed Kili and Fili a blanket. “You’ll need it even with the fire. Mountain winds.” 

“Thanks.” Before Kili could properly grasp it, Fili had taken the blanket it up. He snapped it open then wound it around their shoulders, bundling them together. 

“They were interested in how Eowyn and I met Gandalf.” Faramir squeezed Aragorn’s shoulder. 

“Were they?” Aragorn leaned against Faramir’s legs just as content as Boromir to linger on the floor. “Did you mention that it was because she killed a man?” 

“He said it was boring!” Kili protested. 

“I said long.” Faramir said sheepishly. “Gandalf was part of an counterintelligence agency for many years. I stumbled on an operation of his and he recruited me to help finish it. But before I could, Eowyn killed our target.” 

“He had to hunt her down.” Aragorn lit his pipe again. “It was in self-defense, but she’d taken a wound herself in the fight and hadn’t thought it through. This location has always been a safe place for those who would combat wrongs though I’m not sure how she knew that. I found her half-collapsed on the road one morning while I was out for a walk.” 

“That one.” Faramir gestured to the rough lane they’d traveled down hours before. 

“I treated her and didn’t ask too many questions.” Aragorn went on. “I assumed it was Gandalf who had led her to me and who knows? Maybe he did. I kept her as safe as I could.” 

“Until I came banging on the door, arrest warrant in hand.” Faramir shook his head. “I didn’t know anything.” 

“You knew enough. We shared a meal, the three of us and I sent them both on their way.” 

“Though he wouldn’t let me cuff her, thank the Lord.” 

“Who did she killed?” Kili asked. 

“A Soviet spy. She suspected him for months, asking all the right questions. She’s excellent at that. I hope you don’t have any secrets, boys.” 

“Not a one.” Fili said blandly and Kili had to stifle a hysterical bark of laughter. 

“I’ll keep you safe from her then.” Faramir idly picked at Aragorn’s hair, casting away bits of debris he found there. “I don’t think anyone else could have done what she did. We’d been hunting this guy for over a year and she, on leave and just stumbling into all of it, took him down in less than a week.” 

“Damn.” Kili whistled. “She’s a hero.” 

“Absolutely.” 

“Well.” Aragorn said softly. “She was nearly a very dead one. No good to anyone that way.” 

“She did what needed doing.” Faramir shrugged. 

“Considering that they’re both clearly strong headed danger loving idiots, I told them to move here where I could keep an eye on them.” Aragorn tossed a stick into the flames. “And there you have it.” 

“I don’t know what I have.” Kili said under his breath. 

“Me neither.” Fili admitted, bumping his shoulder against Kili’s. 

“I don’t suppose either of you have cigarettes?” Eowyn bustled through the door. In the firelight, Kili could see how someone might give up their secrets to her. She looked strong and fierce, prepared to carry the weight of the world on her slender shoulders. 

“Here.” Fili tossed his pack to her. “Want a light?” 

“I have it.” She took one and waved it through the fire, blowing out the too bright flare until it simmered amber. “What were you all talking about?” 

“How we met.” Faramir supplied, gathering her in close to his side. 

“I suppose you did promise. Did you tell them about how you stepped on a rusty nail on your way to find me? I bet you didn’t. You never like to tell that part.” She winked at Kili. “He was nearly done in with an infection when he got here.” 

“I was not.” He protested. 

Their argument flowed and Aragorn mediated without taking his eyes from the fire. 

“They’re a little larger than life.” Kili said, low enough to keep between them. 

“Too loud for me.” Fili yawned. “I like it here though. Peaceful. The way I thought Gandalf’s place would be.” 

Even Aragorn’s tall fire could not last forever. When it had burned down to its roots, Faramir stretched upward and led them back into the house. 

“It’s only one bed.” He apologized as he swept open the door to a faintly musty guest room. 

“That’s all right. We can share.” 

Bonnie leaped onto the bed, settling herself right at the foot with proprietary interest. The chill hadn’t invaded this far and they fell asleep cozy together, woodsmoke lingering in their hair. 

_“I love you.” He kissed her broken forehead, the crease at the corner of her mouth. “A thousand times I love you.”_

_Her hand, clumsy and too cold, patted his cheek. Her eyes, lightless, roved over his face._

_“Good boy.” She sighed._

_“Yes.” He smiled weakly. “But not good enough.”_

He woke alone, abandoned by brother and dog. The bed was still warm with their departed bodies and he lingered, casting the last dregs of the dream away. 

“Lazybones.” Fili chided, pushing back into the room. His hair looked wet and he wore someone else's’ loose embroidered shirt and his own cleaner pair of jeans. “There’s bathwater left if you want it. Still warm enough.” 

He was dirty enough that even the thought of sharing someone else's’ water wasn’t enough to put him off. Kili sank into the lukewarm claw footed tub with a happy sigh. There was even real soap, mealy and homemade that left his skin tingling. From the bathroom window, he could hear Eowyn and Faramir twittering at each other and Fili’s low voice joining them very rarely. 

A shirt had been left out for him too, one of his own and he had to wonder who had made the trip back to Marigold. He appreciated the effort as he pulled on dirt-free pants. As he walked downstairs, he stopped to look at the photos hung in an uneven line from top to bottom. There were Aragorn, Eowyn, Faramir and Boromir, but also a dozen other faces. One man that looked much like Faramir, leaning on a police car in full uniform and another that resembled Eowyn beside him. A woman kept appearing too, next to Aragorn or besides Eowyn with an arm around her shoulders. She was beautiful and achingly familiar with her long dark hair and fine features. 

“My wife.” Aragorn said and Kili clutched at the bannister to keep from falling in startlement. “Arwen.” 

“That’s a lovely name.” Kili swallowed down his fear. 

“She’s with her father at the moment. He’s poorly and she lives there sometimes, here others.” Aragorn touched her face in one photo, a delicate caress. 

“You must miss her.” 

“Yes.” Aragorn let his hand drop away. “But I’m not alone.” 

“They seem to love you very much.” Kili offered tentatively. 

“They do.” It was grave and tender. “It is not so often that you can find the love of your life in so many places. I consider myself very blessed.” 

“I would too if I had that.” 

“There’s breakfast to be had.” Aragorn started back down the stairs. “Whatever they’ve left to us.” 

It was cold bacon and fried green tomatoes, eaten over the pan without anyone around to judge them. Aragorn must have bathed too, looking less vagabond now. There was even something a little regel in the set of his shoulders and too observant eyes. 

“You cry out in your sleep.” Aragorn said mildly, gaze fixed on the window. 

“So I’ve been told.” He groused, cheeks heating. “I’m sorry if I-” 

“We all see things that bury into us. Change us. The only way to make peace is to keep the wound clean and give it air. It will heal in time.” 

“That’s sort of what Faramir said yesterday. But he said Eowyn was the healer.” 

“She has a way with herbs.” Aragorn smiled faintly. “He has a way with words. I only have a bit of lore to help me.” 

“How do I keep it clean? How do I air it out?” He tugged restlessly on the end of the long braid. 

“Tell your brother.” 

“I can’t.” He choked. “God, no. I...I’d rather be sick.” 

“Whatever it is, whatever you may think, I’m sure he has a story equal to it.” Aragorn cupped Kili’s face, the sudden intimacy of it taking Kili off guard. Dry chapped lips brushed over his forehead. “Help each other.” 

“Um.” Kili swallowed hard. “Thanks?” 

“We’re going to the hives!” Boromir pushed open the back door with a bang. “Dad says you have to come with him or we’ll all get stung!” 

“Is that so?” Aragorn stepped away from Kili, bending down to scoop Boromir off the floor to his clear delight. “I suppose we must go then.” 

Kili followed them onto the back porch, but hesitated when he found Eowyn and Fili there, their golden heads bent together on one of the benches. A bag rested at Eowyn’s feet, overflowing with shelled nuts. They cracked them with metal pliers, freeing the nutmeat to put in a bowl. They worked well together, quiet and rhythmic. 

Eventually Eowyn glanced up and caught him staring. She smiled at him, looked to Fili and then back with a raised eyebrow, before declaring, 

“I think that’s enough for now. Thank you, Fili.” 

“We can finish.” Fili said, frowning. “I hate to leave a job half done.” 

“Later. I need to weed the front garden before it gets too hot.” She squeezed Fili’s shoulder, before subtly pointing her chin at Kili. “The others will be back with honeycomb soon. Tell them where I am?” 

“Oh. Yes. Fine.” Fili’s gaze locked onto Kili, drawing him in before he could utter a word of protest. He sat in Eowyn’s abandoned spot, their knees close together. 

“I didn’t mean to chase her away.” 

“It’s fine.” 

They sat in silence for a time, the wind keeping the sun from becoming unbearable. The wheat swayed in rustling hush around them and birds called to each other in the cloudless sky. 

“It isn’t just one thing.” Fili said eventually, his hands locked together between his knees. 

“What isn’t?” 

“The whole...why I’m wrong now. Angry all the time. It’s just all of it. There were worse days than others. Days where I had blood on my boots and gunpowder on my hands. I wish I could say that I remember one bad moment and that changed my life, but it wasn’t.” Fili heaved in a breath, let it out slowly. “I want you to understand, but I don’t want you to have to know. What it was like there.” 

“I can take it.” Kili hoped that was true. “If you need me to listen, then I can hear it.” 

“It was quiet. A lot of the time.” Fili glanced at him, taking in his face, his sincerity, before turning back towards the field. The words traveled away from them instead of getting caught between. “Too much time to think. Lots of walking, tense and afraid and bored all at once. You’d half-wish for something to happen then wish it back because when things did happen they were awful. 

“I killed people, I know that. They weren’t soldiers, but they would have killed us if we’d let them. They knew the land better than we did. They’d use the heat, the wet, the trees against us. You’d go on patrol three times in a week just fine and then the fourth, you’d come back carrying bodies of your friends with you. I got used to the smell of burned flesh. No one should get familiar with that. I learned to step so painfully carefully, searching the ground for landmines. I lived breath to breath. I lived knowing I might have to kill someone the next day. That I might die. That someone I cared about, who I played poker with, who told me terribly jokes...they would be gone. You lost people like that. Suddenly and for no damn reason.

“And there was the last day.” Fili stopped, pressed his lips together. Kili reached out impulsively, covering Fili’s joined hands with one of his own. 

“The last day.” He repeated, encouragingly. 

“I was with my unit, cutting through some farmer’s land. It had been abandoned, crops growing wild and too high. My mind was somewhere else. Thinking about something stupid like my next leave or the book I’d left open back at camp. And I heard...it sounds so crazy now.” 

“What?” Kili leaned in, heart racing. “What did you hear?” 

“I heard someone.” Fili choked. His eyes had gone red rimmed without a tear falling. “I heard someone yell and I turned around to look. I’d been so sure, but everyone else...they just went on, but I knew I heard something and if you heard something, you damn well better figure out what before it's got a gun in your face. So I stopped. For just a second, for a few stupid seconds. And the world ended. Fire from every goddamn direction. I hit the ground, pulled on my gas mask before the pain even hit me. I still don’t know if it was a landmine or some homemade bomb. It killed a dozen guys. I knew all of them. And I lived. Fifteen goddamn feet behind and I lived. Where’s the sense in that? 

“I lay there and I couldn’t hear anything. Blast deafened me. I lay there and I watched all this black smoke pass over me. I didn’t know where I’d been hit, only that it hurt more than anything else. Hurt like I was going to die. I started praying. I didn’t even know I still believed in God, but I must’ve because I prayed.” 

“For what?” Kili asked, his own eyes stinging. He’d shed the tears that Fili couldn’t if he had to. Might not have a choice. 

“That you and Mom would be alright without me. That I’d be forgiven for the deaths I’d caused.” 

“But not to live?” 

“No.” Fili leaned into Kili, not quite resting against him, but nearly. “I’d been living in hell for two years. Death didn’t seem so bad just then.” 

“It would’ve been.” Kili put his arm around Fili’s shoulders, pulled him the rest of the way over. “If you weren’t here...God.” 

“Even though I’ve been a miserable, cranky ass?” Fili rasped. 

“I’d rather spend every day putting up with you at your worst than be alone. Than to know I could never spend a day with you again.” He let that thought settle in on it’s own. 

“I’m glad.” Fili sighed. “That I didn’t die. Sometimes I’d wake up in that godawful hospital and think maybe I should’ve, but....this trip. You were right about it. It’s a little better each day. Coming back to myself. Figuring out who I was. You just have to keep on being patient with me.” 

“I can do that. If you’ll do it back for me.” 

“Yeah." Fili took in a shaky breath. "Yeah, okay. I can do that.” 

The story of the acid trip, the vision Kili had had, stayed locked behind his teeth. It wouldn’t do either of them any good to examine. Coincidence most likely or fate or who knew what higher power? Fili’s God maybe or Kili’s nameless belief in a universe that wasn’t always kind, but paid an idle sort of attention. He couldn’t make this confession, this pained admittance about him. It shouldn't be about the things that might divide them just as they started coming back together again. 

In the distance, Aragorn began to sing, Faramir and Boromir chiming in behind him as they headed back to the house. Kili didn’t know the words or even recognize the joyful little tune. Still it stirred inside of him, sweetening the dark mess of new knowledge with a promise of honey and good company. Fili turned one hand under Kili's until their fingers slotting together. 

"Thanks." He said roughly and Kili didn't respond. Only squeezed Fili's hand gently and let the tears fall.


	8. From South Dakota to Wyoming, Part 2

They stayed two more nights in the little guest room. No one voiced a complaint about their residence though they did become an extra set of hands for all the hundreds of tasks that cropped up. Kili even spent one afternoon walking the rows of wheat with Boromir, looking for any signs of rot or insects. The boy had sharp eyes and a quiet that seemed to come more from Aragorn than either of his natural parents. 

Fili’s days rotated around the animals with Bonnie at his heels. He fed chickens and learned how to milk the cow. When Kili got back from the walk, Fili put a glass of cream into his hands. 

“There was extra.” He said over Kili’s thanks. “Anyway, you always liked it.” 

Kili still did and he drank it slowly, watching Fili watching him. 

Even Aragorn’s ridiculously giant horse, Brego, took a liking to Fili, nudging him for affection whenever Fili got too close. Faramir groaned, 

“Of course, he’d choose someone who doesn’t have to clean his hooves all the time.” 

“He doesn’t like Aragorn?” Kili asked in confusion. 

“Oh, he loves Aragorn. And me.” Eowyn hid a smile behind her hair. “But he’s never taken to Faramir.” 

“He bites me.” Faramir groused. 

“Bit you. Once.” Aragorn clapped Faramir on the shoulder. “A love bite.” 

“I know what a love bite feels like and there was nothing loving about that chomp.” 

Fili didn’t hear any of it, forehead pressed to the Brego’s muzzle. 

“I’m a little worried he won’t leave.” Kili confessed to Eowyn later that night. “I mean I like it here, but he’s...its different for him.” 

“If you leave, he’ll follow.” She corrected his hold on the churn handle, butter sloshing to life beneath them. “And you’re always welcome back.” 

On the fourth morning, a second stream of smoke boiled up at the mountain’s roots, matching the the chimney curl of Faramir’s stove. 

“He’s home then.” Aragorn announced. “I can take you there after lunch.” 

“Oh.” Kili sat back in his chair. He hadn’t thought he’d mind leaving. He wanted to be back on the road, back to just the two of them. 

“Thank you.” Fili said for him, pouring Eowyn’s morning tea into every cup. “We’d appreciate that.” 

They weren’t allowed to leave empty handed. Faramir packed a badly woven basket full of cheese, bread and strawberries while Eowyn tucked bundles of labeled herbs beside it. 

“We’re just driving a few more states.” Kili laughed as the weighed him down. “There’ll even be places to eat along the way.” 

“Junk.” Eowyn declared and piled a blanket on top. “You’ll ruin your hearts, see if you don’t.” 

“Were we adopted when I wasn’t paying attention?” Kili whispered. 

“Shut up and accept the nice lady’s delicious food, you moron.” Fili hissed through a smile. 

“I’m forgetting something.” Eowyn frowned. 

“I sincerely hope not.” Aragorn laughed. “You’ll give away the whole house at this rate.” 

He barely ducked the swat she sent in his direction. 

“Here.” Faramir tucked a few papers in alongside the food. 

“What’s that?” Kili couldn’t reach it to look. 

“Lyrics.” Fili supplied. “Thanks. When did you have time to write them down?” 

“Oh, you know.” Faramir shrugged carelessly. “Make good use of them, if you must.” 

“Lyrics to what?” Kili asked when they’d finally been freed from several rounds of enthusiastic hugs. 

“The songs they all kept singing. Never heard them before.” 

“Faramir wrote them.” Aragorn leaned down off the horse to pluck of Kili’s overladen basket before it collapsed in on itself. “Some of the melodies are very old, but he’s always scribbling down new words.” 

“That’s why he had them ready.” Fili grinned, clearly pleased with the unraveling of that small mystery. 

It panged Kili to walk away from the cozy farmhouse, following Brego through the wheat and into the stand of pinetrees. It had been their refuge for such a short while. He glanced at Fili, measuring the sorrow there, but found only curiosity. 

“Don’t look like that.” Fili chided when he caught him. “We’ll visit again sometime.” 

“I thought you’d be more...” He struggled for a word. 

“It’s a good home, but not ours. Right?” 

“Right.” Kili dug up a smile. 

Fili’s cane rustled through browning piles of pine needles, stirring up the bright smell of sap. They kept an easy pace, letting Aragorn get ahead and then return for them with seemingly infinite patience. The cabin, when they finally arrived, had a distinctly abandoned look. Moss grew over the roof with wild abandon and a tree had grown up through the broken porch. 

“Radagast!” Aragorn called out, dismounting in an easy slide. Brego set his head on Fili’s shoulder, taking a last quiet moment with his new favorite person. 

“What? What?” An older man with a shapeless brown robe wandered out onto the porch. “Who’s there?” 

“It’s Aragorn. Remember me?” Aragorn asked, head cocked to one side. 

“Yes, yes. I haven’t lost my mind yet.” Radagast coughed. “What brings you here? I don’t have anything to trade this trip. Saw a bear though. Might want to watch your borders.” 

“I’ll do that. These boys have a letter for you.” 

“From Gandalf.” Kili supplied taking a tentative step forward. 

“Is it?” Radagast coughed again. “Doesn’t he know I write him? Not the other way around. Can’t stand getting mail. Still, you’d better come in. Probably travelled for ages.” 

The house was worse inside, a dozen collections of half empty jars and raw wood furniture occupied mostly by animals meant to stay outside. A chipmunk reluctantly conceded a chair to Fili and Kili had to wait for family of hedgehogs to shuffle down the bench. Even then he only sat reluctantly. The bottom of his left shoe connected with something tacky and he had to fight to free it before he could settle. 

“Here.” Kili produced the letter, much wrinkled now from its journey. 

“Where?” Radagast blinked. 

“The letter is in my hand.” Kili said carefully. 

“What letter?” Radagast stared at him blankly. 

“The one from Gandalf.” 

“Oh! Yes. Of course!” Radagast took the letter from Kili very slowly as if it might detonate. “My apologies. Very distracted today. Something about the weather, I suppose. Can I get you something to eat?” 

“No!” Fili and Kili said in chorus, eyes wild. 

“We’re fine, thank you.” Fili added. 

“Yes, I can see that.” 

One of the hedgehogs sniffed at Kili’s fingertips. Radagast opened the envelope with a yellowed fingernail, making tiny noises nearly like hiccups as he went. He scanned the lines, muttering a slurry of words to himself. At one point he looked up at them, narrowed his eyes and then laughed, before returning to his words. 

“Where’d Aragorn get to?” Kili whispered when this behaviour continued. 

“He left us.” Fili kept his eyes on Radagast. “Went home, I think.” 

“Asshole.” Kili decreed and Fili didn’t argue with him. 

“You didn’t tell me you were on a quest!” Radagast shouted, startling them both. “If I had known that than I wouldn’t have spent so many days looking for fool’s gold.” 

“We aren’t on a quest.” Kili groaned. “Look, we’ve delivered your letter and we’ve got a long walk back to our-” 

“A letter! Yes! You’ll have to wait while I write it, but I’ll be double quick. A letter to The Last Homely House. Where did I put my pen...” 

“Look, we aren’t mailmen.” Fili said gently. “So-” 

“Questers! Not mailmen. Clearly. Obvious. But you’re in the habit of taking the mail along with you and you’ll be passing through. Everything stops in Las Vegas, at least for a little while.” Radagast flipped through piles of ancient papers, sending dust and spiders in every direction. “Ah! Just a minute, just a minute.” 

“We are going to Vegas.” Fili pointed out. 

“Oh, not you too. Next you’ll tell me we’re looking for the Holy Grail.” 

“Already found!” Radagast cried out, leaping on an old fountain pen and scooping up a jar of ink. “Knew it was here somewhere.” 

“Do you think he means the pen or the Grail?” Kili asked, grinning when Fili’s silent laugh shook through them both. 

Decided apparently to wait for their next delivery to be ready, they split some of the food in the basket. Aragorn had left it just inside the front door. 

Kili wound up sharing some of the cheese with the hedgehogs and tried not to feel too pleased when one of them dozed off in his lap. Bonnie eyed them suspiciously, keeping her place between Fili’s feet. 

“That is your charge!” Radagast stood up from the desk with a clatter, casting a thick vellum envelope into Fili’s lap. “And you’ll need a payment!” 

“No, really-” Fili began to protest. 

“It’s traditional!” Radagast disappeared into the warren of shelves.

“If he gives us a severed head, I’m out of here.” 

“He’s not a serial killer.” Fili said reasonably. “Probably.” 

The sleeping hedgehog on Kili’s lap started to snore in a pleasantly adorable fashion. 

“Take this!” Radagast reemerged, eyes wide. He plucked up Kili’s hand and pressed a small paper bag into his hand. “They will help you on your journey.” 

“Unless it’s cash, I’m not sure how.” But Kili took it, just to stop Radagast from staring expectantly at him. “Um. So thanks for your hospitality and all. We’re gonna...go now.” 

“Goodbye.” Fili underscored. 

The hedgehog grumbled as Kili set it aside. Radagast was still staring unblinkingly at them as they made their way to the door and started down the dirt path. 

“I have to know. What’d he give us?” 

“No idea.” Carefully, Kili opened the bag. There was something small and light at the bottom. He reached inside and produced a handful of mushroom caps. “Oh for the love of Christ.” 

“What?” 

“Shrooms.” He closed his eyes and tipped them back into the bag. “That explains a lot.” 

“Mushrooms? What do they explain?” Fili took the bag, peering at them curiously. 

“Magic mushrooms.” 

“What’s magic about them?” Fili wrinkled his nose. 

“The way they make you feel. It’s sort of a different high. Like...the mellowing bits of weed and some of the psychedelic stuff from LSD, but without the detailed hallucinations.” He took the bag back before Fili decided to scarf them down in another show of defiance. “They’re pretty safe, but we should get back on the road. Neither of us will be up for the drive otherwise.” 

“Is there anything you haven’t tried?” 

There wasn’t any accusation in the question, so Kili thought it over. 

“Heroin. That stuff scares the shit out of me.” He shoved the bag deeper into his pocket. “Nothing goes in my veins or up my nose. But yeah, anything else I’ve probably tried once.” 

“And a lot of it more than.” Fili shook his head. “It’s like I can see you now and picture you three years ago. But it’s a movie where the films been cut and put back together. I just can’t imagine how it went.” 

Pulling two cigarettes from the pack, Kili lit them with the heavy lighter. He ran his fingers over the engraving, before passing Fili his smoke. They marked their passage through the underbrush with that white trail. 

“I can’t either.” He confessed. “You left and then...it’s all jump cuts, man. I made stupid decisions and I got lucky. Then I met...well I met her and she showed me everything. The way our world is changing. How ugly some things are and how beautiful they could be. Went to rallies and love ins and grew out my hair. The time smeared altogether.” 

“I wish you’d tell me about her.” 

“I wish I knew how to start.” He drew the smoke in deep and released it in a slow trickle. “And I wish I knew how it would end if I did.” 

They walked the rest of the way back to Marigold in silence. When Fili started to falter, Kili slide an arm around him. It only took a few steps to find their rhythm, their footsteps landing in tandem.


	9. From Wyoming to Nevada

The park was as new as the trees were old. The paint hadn’t yet dried on the first signs into Florissant Fossil Beds National Park when they pulled into the parking lot. It had been Fili that spotted the place, 

“Didn’t you used to be obsessed with dinosaurs?” 

“Yeah like when I was four years old.” Kili rolled his eyes, but got off at the exit and followed white arrows to a dirt parking lot. A man with a heavy pack stood at the gate, dirty kneed with a thumb out. Kili drove past him with an apologetic shrug. 

There weren’t any dinosaurs at the park. Kili wasn’t disappointed because he was no longer four years old. 

“Are you pouting?” Fili straightened up from examining one of the fossilized redwood stumps. 

“No.” He growled. 

“We’ll find you some dinosaurs.” Fili assured him and then laughed at whatever face Kili pulled in reaction. “It’s cool, man. They’re old and huge. I can see the appeal.” 

“Ugh. Let’s just go look at some more dragonfly imprints.” 

It was probably too long a walk for Fili, but he seemed oblivious to his increasing limp. Kili couldn’t figure out what one could find interesting about old stumps, but Fili looked over every one as if it held the secret to life itself. The weather was good at least, mild and only a little overcast. Bonnie hunted in the tall grasses and made friends with a rambunctious golden retriever puppy. 

“Getting hungry?” Kili asked desperately three hours in. 

“Hm?” 

“It’s lunch time, man.” 

“Oh. Is it?” Fili looked skyward. “Huh. Looks like rain.” 

They took their time going back, the clouds gathering more and more ominously as they went. Ten minutes after they reached Marigold, the rain began to fall pounding down as hard as nails. 

“Damn.” The rain splattered heavy against the glass making their canned soup seem far more appealing with its steaming warmth. Especially paired with Faramir’s bread. “This is going to set us back a bit. Probably have to stop somewhere for the night.” 

“I don’t mind a camping night. We got lucky for a while there.” Fili pointed out. He was draped over the passenger seat, Bonnie waiting patiently for her share of chicken noodle at his side. 

On their way out of the park, Kili spotted the hitchhiker again. He looked miserable now, formally springy curls plastered to his head and a sad yellow slicker soaked and dripping onto the fat backpack. 

“Um-” Kili started. 

“It’s on you if he’s a psycho killer.” Fili interrupted. “And he’s sleeping on the kitchen floor. I’m not giving up our bed.”

“Right.” 

Their bed. He hadn’t thought of it that way before. It sat oddly on him and he was grateful of the distraction of cranking down the window. 

“Hey, you need a ride?” 

The soaked hitchhiker looked up with limp relief. 

“Yes, please. I don’t care where you’re going, I just need to be dry.” He sneezed violently as he collected up his pack. “I don’t suppose you have a handkerchief?” 

“Nope.” Kili laughed. “But there’s towels. I’m Kili.” 

“I’m Fili.” He waved desultory. 

“At your service.” Kili winked and got up to pop the back door. 

“Bilbo Baggins.” The hitchhiker stepped inside. 

“God bless you.” 

“No, that’s my name.” 

“Welcome then, Mr. Boggins.” 

“Baggins. But you should probably just call me Bilbo.” 

“Give him a towel!” Fili ordered. “He’s probably dripping everywhere.” 

“Yes, please.” Bilbo sniffed pathetically. 

“Where are you headed?” Kili tossed him a cleanish towel. Bilbo looked at it askance before rubbing it over his face in resignation. 

“Oh, I haven’t really decided. Just woke up one morning and was a bit tired of the same four walls.” The head the emerged from under the cloth was tousled, somber, but the eyes sparked in merriment. “Do you know what I mean?” 

“I do.” Kili grinned. “We’re on our way to San Francisco ourselves.” 

“I’ve never seen the Pacific.” Bilbo said thoughtfully. 

“Let’s see how we do for a night.” Fili watched him carefully. “We’re on our way to Nevada for now.” 

“Vegas.” Bilbo gave a sort of reverence to the name. “Excellent.” 

“You a gambler?” 

“No!” Cheerily Bilbo started drying his hands. “But I’d like to try it.” 

The list of things Bilbo had already tried wasn’t very long. He told them the few little anecdotes he’d acquired on his way from his home a few hours away to the the park. He sounded a little like a lost English teacher. 

“Why’d you leave home at all?” Kili asked when Bilbo had finished recounting his sprint away from an angry dog.

“Have you ever read On the Road?” 

“Never heard of it.” Fili groused. 

“Never got around to it.” Kili shrugged. “Got it hanging around so slowly.” 

“Nothing behind me, everything ahead of me, as is ever so on the road.” The quote rolled out as easy as prayer. “That’s what I wanted. The unknown everything.” 

They all went silent watching the yellow line rolling by with that. 

“It’s still you though.” Kili sighed. “You know? You can’t leave yourself behind.” 

Fili reached over the gap between them, plucking Kili’s hand for the gear shaft, squeezing it just once before dropping it again. It was subtle and fast and Kili’s head spun onward. 

“That’s true.” Bilbo said softly. “But how can you figure out who that is if you never break out of the mold that traps you?” 

“Sometimes you have to grow right where you are, I think. Maybe. I don’t know.” 

“Hey, a diner.” Fili cut in. “I’m starving.” 

“Oh, dear.” Bilbo wrinkled his nose. “I saw you have a stove. Would you prefer if I cooked something?” 

Somehow Bilbo created chicken and dumplings with what he had in his backpack. This feat went some distance to warming Fili, who ate with clear pleasure. 

“What did you do before you hit the road?” 

“Oh.” Bilbo sighed. “I taught high school English. Lovely, but a little dull, you know?” 

Kili hid a laugh in his bowl while Fili solemnly agreed that he did. Neither of them ever been great students, but they’d always done their homework together their feet fighting for space under the kitchen table, books jostling and overlapping. 

The rain passed them over, leaving the night air crisp and fresh. Bilbo produced a tent from his pack with a wink. 

“Rather sleep outside if it’s all the same to you.” 

“Fine by us.” Fili said quickly. 

“You don’t like him.” Kili observed when Bilbo had bedded down out of earshot. 

“No, he’s fine. I just want...I don’t know. It’s good with only the two of us, you know?” 

And Kili did know. He liked drawing the blanket over them, the softened private world they had begun to rebuild between them. Falling asleep with his lips inches from the bare, vulnerable skin at the nape of Fili’s neck had become a ritual that wouldn’t bare interruption. 

“I’ve been thinking.” Fili rumbled, back already in a loose ‘c’, each knob of his spine clear in the moonlight. 

“About what?” 

“The farm....about all of them. What was going on there, you think?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean Aragorn and Eowyn and Faramir. Was she...with both of them?” 

Kili closed his eyes, “What would you think if they were?” 

“I don’t know. It’s weird.” 

“Aragorn has a wife.” 

“Yeah?” Fili shifted and for the first time, turned over. They were too close, their faces scant inches apart and Fili’s breath sour in Kili’s nose. “Still though. They were all very...close.” 

“They’re a family.” Kili didn’t dare open his eyes. His skin had gone tight and hot all over. Fear warring with a new kindling of warped affection. “We’re close.” 

“Are we?” 

Just like earlier, Fili bridged the distance between them. His fingers hooked around Kili’s wrist, thumb describing circles over the bump of wrist bone. 

“You think we’re not?” 

“I think,” Fili sighed and it fluttered over Kili’s face, “that we’re working on it.” 

“Okay.” All his attention flew to his hand, to the soft caress. 

“Tell me something about San Fransisco. Anything.” 

“What? Why?” Kili opened his eyes out of sheer surprise. Fili was too close, too intent. The darkness turned his eyes black. 

“You won’t tell me about the girl, but come on, there’s got to be more. You’ve spent a couple of years there. What do you like about it? Where do you eat? Who do you hang out with?” 

“Um...well, it’s warm.” He licked his lips. “Not like you’d imagine. It’s too north to be warm all year round or anything. And the weather can change at the drop of a hat. You carry a sweater everywhere. I like that. It’s fifty then eight or the other way around. And the fog...it burns off, but in the morning you get this ridiculous fog and it’s sort of peaceful. Makes everything quiet. 

“I can see the water from my apartment even though it’s a cheap wreck. The owner knows Thorin gave me a decent deal. It’s really more like a generous studio sort of thing? I eat a lot at the bakery across the street for breakfast.” 

He talked and talked, filling the inches of space between them. He described his walk to work, the insane hill that had worked his legs into stony muscle and how he liked to drive to distant beaches to surf. Every time he thought he had bored Fili to sleep, he’d check and find that intense gaze still on his face. 

“And the people?” Fili eventually coaxed. It had to be late, later than Fili had managed to stay awake since they’d begun. 

“I don’t...there’s the family.” He shrugged. “People I chat with at school or whatever.” 

“Sounds lonely.” 

It wasn’t. It hadn’t been. Had it? Kili reached back, searching for some sign in the rubble of memory. There had never been a lack of company. He couldn’t recall a time when he had no choice, but to be alone. But he had been alone a lot because he chose it. 

“What about you?” He asked instead of replying. “Were you lonely?” 

“Every day.” The grip on his wrist tightened fractionally. 

They fell asleep like that, tethered together in the vast ocean of dreaming.

_”You’re a mess.” Fili scolded, sitting on top of the warped bookcase. Kili had dragged it in from the street, a reclaimed bit of art._

_“He’s working on it.” She ran her hands over Kili’s head, dropped a kiss on the crown of his head._

__

Kili let the imagery linger that morning, turned over the confluence of those worlds. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. For his part, Fili spent the morning in a contented quiet punctuated by fluid melancholy melodies on the guitar. Bilbo didn’t seem to mind their mental wanderings, singing along with Fili’s playing or making bountiful meals out of his seemingly bottomless pack. 

The last of the underbrush gave way to desert around noon and the harsh landscape rubbed raw at Kili’s nerves. He watched vultures circle overhead as Bonnie voided her bowels on a stretch of road, shivering in the dry heat. They drank through bottles of water, stopping at a gas station for more. 

“It’s beautiful.” Bilbo sighed, staring out the window. 

“Really?” Kili glanced back at him. 

“If you only see beauty in green life then you’re looking at things the wrong way.” He chided. “There’s a world out there, brimming with new and sharp things.” 

“Guess we’ll have to agree to disagree.” 

But when the sun finally creeped down and set the sky on fire with its setting, Kili had to concede that there was some beauty in the red rock and gritty earth. He took all the turns toward Vegas, but some wild hair made him stop a few miles out from the city line. 

“Might as well arrive after breakfast. Better than before dinner.” He justified, but Fili only shrugged. 

“Scorpions out there.” Bilbo wrinkled his nose. “Probably snakes.” 

“You can sleep inside.” Fili allowed. 

Bilbo settled on the floor in the kitchen and Kili kept to his side of the bed. When he’d turned restlessly for the fourth time, Fili let out an annoyed grunt and threw an arm over Kili’s waist. It pulled them close together, trapping their combined heat. The warmth lulled Kili to sleep. 

_“I learned a nursery rhyme as a child.” She sat at the kitchen table, shelling pistachios with Fili. Both their fingers were red with dye, their lips cherry. “Little boys are made of snips and snails and puppy dog tails.”_

_“Sugar and spice and everything nice for girls.” Fili agreed._

_“But sometimes they get all mixed up. He’s all spice and sugar and snails that one.”_

_“Always has been.”_

__

“I’m not made of snails.” Kili declared to Fili’s sleeping back, rising and rubbing the grit from his eyes. 

“Whatever you say.” Bilbo whistled cheerfully, flipping what appeared to be pancakes. “I don’t suppose you have any maple syrup?” 

They didn’t. Kili ate his soaked with butter and rolled up for easy consumption as he drove the last handful of minutes into Las Vegas. The strip hypnotized him. Even in the harsh light of day, it looked like a giant’s playground full of costume and light. 

“You can feel the sin!” Bilbo laughed, leaning forward until he was practically diving through the windshield. 

They had to stop and ask for directions twice to The Last Homely House, but everyone they spoke to seemed to know exactly where it was though they were clearly tourists themselves. They followed a side road, away from the bustling crowds and tumult. Most of the casinos they passed lacked the grandeur of the strip hotels. They looked rundown, furtive with their cracked parking lots and embracing themes. 

“What kind of dive did he point us to?” Fili grumbled. 

“Oh.” Bilbo said softly. “I don’t think that’s a dive.” 

It looked a little like a church and a little like a dream. Alabaster carved, the building swooped triumphantly towards the sky. Arched windows dotted the walls and the doors were massive slabs of bolted wood. Tall trees stood in a protective circle around it, kept miraculously alive under the sun’s killing heat. 

Two graceful men carrying obvious weapons narrowed their eyes as Marigold sputtered to a halt in front of the grand entrance. The air even smelled different as Kili opened his door as if this place had carried the forest with it from the desert. 

“May I help you?” One of the guards asked. His tone turned the question to ‘What the fuck are you doing here?’. 

“We’re delivering a letter.” Fili barked and Kili jumped. It was a soldier’s voice, straight and hard as an order. 

“Not much of a delivery truck.” The guard eyed the camper. “What company are you with?” 

“We’re couriers for Radagast Brown.” The stiffness impressed Kili even as it alienated him. Was this how Fili had carried himself through war? Or was it a face easily removed and put back on when it was useful?

“Wait here.” The second guard slipped inside while the first one gave them a dead eyed stare. 

“Might I have a look at your roses?” Bilbo asked even as he stepped up to a flower bed. “Unusual for them to succeed in such a climate.” 

The guard’s nostrils flared in annoyance. 

“Hm. Red castles. English, I believe.” Bilbo went on, oblivious to the tension. “They need a good deal of water. Irrigation must be excellent out here, would have to be.” 

“Yes.” The guard said stiffly as if to stem the tide. He was too late. 

“My mother used raise white ones, lovely things. A thousand petals it seemed like. Garden always smelled sweet.” Bilbo rambled on. “They’re meant to signify purity, but I doubt she knew or cared about that. Never one for metaphors my mother. I’ve seen a few purple ones. Not sure if they were dyed or not-” 

“Why don’t you wait in the lobby.” The guard threw open the doors, a rush of cooled air greeting them. 

“Oh, thank you.” Bilbo waltzed inside. “Very kind of you.” 

“Did you do that on purpose?” Kili asked when they were safely standing on plush carpeting. 

“No idea what you mean.” Bilbo rocked onto his heels. 

They didn’t have to wait much longer. A stately man with a retreating hairline and a magnificent grey suit came down the stairs. 

“Are you my messengers?” His cultured voice swelled in the foyer. 

“That’s us, sir.” Fili extended the ratty folded letter. “From Radagast Brown.” 

“A good friend to all who reside here.” He took the letter then extended a hand. “Elrond Rivendell. Welcome to my home.” 

Kili never did get a clear answer on whether it was a private residence or not. He found he didn’t care. They were delivered into a posh hotel room with beds enough for all of them, boundless hot water and bar. 

“This news troubles me.” Elrond had told them. “Stay a day or two in my walls, refresh yourselves and enjoy the city. I may yet have need of you.” 

“We aren’t actually messengers.” Kili protested. 

“Once is chance, twice is coincidence and a third time....well.” Elrond shrugged in the slightest of movements. “I’d say that’s something to consider.” 

“We haven’t done it a third time.” But Elrond had already left them. 

“This is a strange place.” Fili decreed, even as he pulled a too large plush robe around his bath pinked skin. “I’m not sure I like it.” 

Two rough Brooklyn boys stood amid splendor and stared helplessly at each other. 

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s got a charm.” Bilbo looked up from the heavy book he’d found on a table. “Decadent.” 

“I’d rather sleep in Marigold.” Fili declared and Kili tried not to take that as a compliment. 

They ate an unfamiliar meals made of words they couldn’t pronounce. They walked in gardens full of impossible flowers, nodding in the blaze of late afternoon. They sought each other out over the wide mattress and rebuilt their own universe under the comforter that was at once too light and too warm. 

_“It’s a pot. Don’t watch it.” She bent close to the flame, blood dripping down the tips of her hair to sizzle on stovetop._

_“It will boil if I do or I don’t.” Fili’s helmet sunk down over his eyes, too big like a child playing at soldier._

_“You don’t know that. What if it doesn’t?”_

_“It can’t help but boil over. That’s what pots do.”_

_“That will be messy.”_

_“But necessary.”_

_“You’ll get burned.”_

_“Don’t!” Kili cried out._

_They both looked up at once, pinning Kili with their duel gaze. He stared helplessly back._

“Shush.” Fili woke him with a clumsy hand in his hair. 

“I’m sorry.” He shook and he couldn’t say why. 

“What for?” 

“There was a girl.” Kili swallowed down hard. “And her name was Tauriel.”


	10. From Nevada to Los Angeles, Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: This chapter contains discussion of gay and transbashing. It also contains period sentiments about homosexuality.

The story could not be told with the intimacy of a bed beneath them. Kili blundered down the hallways until he could escape into the early morning desert chill, among Elrond’s impossible gardens. There was a stone bench beneath a willow tree, tiny leaves dancing above them. 

Kili sat down, bringing up his knees to rest his chin. He was six again, confessing his sins to his boundlessly forgiving older brother in the hope that all would be wiped clean. Fili had been magic then, capable of miracles. 

Maybe Kili had to trust that he still could be, even if now there was nothing truly to forgive. Only to accept. Or not.   
He opened his wallet and teased the picture out from behind a stack of cards. He couldn’t bare to be without, but couldn’t stand to look at it everyday. It had had the added effect of keeping the familiar face from Fili’s prying eyes. 

It was a beautiful shot, even worn around the edges. She stood in front of Kili’s apartment building, her long red hair in stark contrast to the graying stone. The dress she wore, forest green and gold, brought woodlands to that barren spot. Best yet, she smiled in it with her pearly perfect teeth. 

“I know that face.” Fili’s breath caught and Kili’s blood burned as he handed him the photo. “I know...Kili. This is Teddy Edelstein, that creepy kid you used to hang out with. In a dress.” 

“Her name is Tauriel.” Kili said firmly. “That’s the name she wanted to be called.” 

“You want me to believe that you chased after some boy in a skirt?” 

“I want you to believe that I fell in love with a beautiful woman.” A bird called out in the distance. Kili waited for the echoing cry of its mate, but it never came. 

“Teddy Edelstein is a lot of things, but a woman ain’t one of ‘em.” 

“According to who? To you?” Kili snatched the photo back, tucking back into his wallet. “She knew who she was and it had nothing to do with what went on under her clothes.” 

“I don’t understand.” Fili sounded punched out, breathless and strangled. 

“I know. I knew you wouldn’t.” 

An ugly silence reigned. The bird cry rose, undulating with the rising sun. 

“Are you a fag?” Fili finally asked. “Is that what...is that why you’re so different now?” 

“Don’t use that word.” Kili growled. “I’m...I don’t know the word. Both or something. Or neither maybe. But not because of her. Nothing about being with her made me less than straight, even if changed every other part of me.” 

“Does Mom know? Fuck, does Thorin? You must’ve been carrying on with...him...her... whatever, right under their damn noses!” 

“Of course Mom doesn’t know. And...no. Thorin knew her, but didn’t know her from before. He hated her for different reasons. He thought she was sort of condescending, I guess. She was smart. Brilliant, even.” 

“And you just let everyone think you had a girlfriend.” 

“Because I did.” Kili had been bracing himself for all of it, but he hadn’t thought it would hurt so much. It was a literal ache, straining in his chest for attention. “Because I loved her. I would’ve married her if I could’ve.” 

“Jesus fucking christ.” There was a blur of movement and Kili winced in anticipation of a blow. It didn’t come. Instead, Fili had launched himself to his feet and begun pacing. The limp had returned as badly as if they’d walked a dozen miles. “I never should have left.” 

“You think you could’ve stopped me from falling in love?” Kili snorted. “You think you could’ve changed me?” 

“I think you would’ve- Fuck! I don’t know. Maybe, okay? Maybe I could’ve...the stealing, the drugs, the anti-war nonsense...now this. Kili, really.” 

“This is my life.” He dug his hands into the meat of his calves, holding himself together. “That nonsense is what I believe. She’s who I loved. If you don’t want to know about it, then you can piss off back to Brooklyn when we get to San Francisco. Hell, I can afford to put you on a plane from here.” 

“Was that what this whole trip was about?” Fili stopped dead. “Get me all...attached to you or whatever and then when you were ready to drop the bomb, I’d be too close to leave?” 

“Fuck, no. It wasn’t the plan. The plan was that you’d never find out about her. The plan was that you’d leave well enough alone. I’d keep my secrets and well...but I wanted to know yours, didn’t I? I had to know and if you told me and I said nothing...I didn’t realize how that’d make me feel. I didn’t think, okay? I never planned a damn thing. I wanted my brother back. I wanted some damn comfort after...well. That was stupid, I can see that now.” 

“After what?” Fili’s eyes narrowed. 

“You don’t want to know. You’ve made that very clear.” 

“Kili!” Fili was right there, too close all of a sudden, hands too hard on Kili’s wrist. “After what? You keep hinting. I thought this girl...I don’t know what I thought from the things you’ve said. Sleep talked through. What the hell happened?” 

“They took her from me.” He couldn’t shake Fili away, couldn’t cover whatever pathetic expression had contorted his face. “She’s...alive, but she’s not herself anymore. Never will be.” 

“How?” 

He could only shake his head, unable to meet Fili’s eyes. “  
“Come on.” Fili said hoarsely. “You’ve begun it, you might as well tell me the whole of it. Start from the beginning.” 

“You know the beginning.” 

“I know you were friends with him. Met him at some after school thing.” 

“Archery.” Kili kept his eyes on the sky. “She outshot me. No one else could.” 

“Yeah. I forgot about that. Why’d you stop?” 

“Because once I got out of high school, there wasn’t anywhere for me to practice.” He still thought about it sometimes. Still stood in a ready stance when he wasn’t thinking about it. “We stayed friends though. I’d hang out at her house, even though her parents didn’t like it. Didn’t like me. 

“When she decided to live as a woman, she knew she’d have to leave. Move. Her parents would never put up with it and too many people knew her. Thorin was starting to talk about moving out west by then, so we went together. Took the train across the country. She was so happy.” He liked to think of her as frozen in time on that trip. How everyone greeting her as ‘Ms’ set her glowing. The boy that Kili had known peeled away on that trip, leaving her purely herself by the time they arrived. “I got a place to stay with Nori for awhile, too broke to do my own thing right away. She got caught up in the local scene pretty quick. We didn’t spend much time together.” 

“Local scene?” 

“The activism. The music...I can’t explain it to you. It’s different there. Mellowed out and real. They called it the Summer of Love. People came from all over the country to be there, to take the feeling home with them. Tauriel, she just stood right at the center of it. She knew how to turn a crowd around, made friends with just about everyone.” 

“And they knew she wasn’t really a woman?” 

“She was.” Kili said firmly. “More than I was a man. More than you are.” 

“Hey-” 

“Trust me on this. No one would’ve guessed she’d been born into the wrong body. They swallowed her up just as she was and the few people that knew, didn’t care. It was a different space.” 

“So when did she and you become we?” 

“After it all ended. I mean, it’s still like that a little now, but ‘67 was special. By November, the last of the visitors had pretty much gone. It got quiet again and she had time on her hands. I moved out on my own, started taking classes. She was smart like I said and she’d help me with the tougher stuff. I’d take her out to dinner to say thanks. Took me a few weeks to piece it together. That we were dating.” 

“And you were just...what? Magically okay with it?” 

“Of course not.” The bird dashed over head. A robin maybe. Kili wasn’t sure. “I had my share of panic over it. We talked about it though. She never tried to pretend it was different than what it was. But we got there in the end and it was worth every tough conversation. Every worry I had. We were so good together.” 

“She got you into the drugs, didn’t she?” 

“No. I managed that all on my own. She did give me the acid though. She thought it tapped into another place.” She’d loved the idea of leaving behind the earthly flesh and he couldn’t blame her. It wasn’t until that one terrible lonely trip that he thought she might be onto something. “That you could change the world. She always thought that.” 

“How long?” 

“A year. We were talking about moving in together. She practically lived with me as it was. Maybe we would’ve. But-” He couldn’t. Not with Fili’s eyes so hard on his face and grip so tight around his wrists that Kili was starting to think it might leave bruises. “Let go of me.” 

“Will you run if I do?” 

“No.” He shook Fili’s grip loose and got to his feet. “Where would I go?” 

“You could leave me here. It’s your camper. Your trip.” 

“Ours.” Kili turned, the betrayl gathering thick in his chest. “I didn’t do this just for me, you know.” 

“I know.” Fili didn’t look angry. Didn’t look anything. He had the blank stare that pierced through Marigold’s windshield and searched for nothing at all. “Tell me, Kili.” 

“What if I don’t want to?” 

“Tell me anyway. What’s it matter now?” 

It took all the air from his lungs. What did it matter? Whatever tentative veins had crept between them, tangled tenderly together, had been severed now. The bond Kili had tried painstakingly to rebuild lay shattered, probably beyond fixing. Over such a little thing, in the end. What did it matter who Tauriel had been? It should only matter that she wasn’t anymore. 

“There was a bar we liked.” He could summon the scene in an instant, remember the smell of stale beer on their hands and the smiles they’d worn outside. “A sort of underground place for people who were different.” 

“A queer bar.” 

“Not-yes. Fine. A queer bar.” Now that he had looked at Fili, he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away. “Good night. Had a few drinks. A few laughs. I had an early class, so we left. Too many drinks maybe because I just had to kiss her. Pressed her up against the wall and stole one or two. Nothing that would’ve raised an eyebrow anywhere else. 

“But we weren’t anywhere else. I didn’t even hear them coming. They tore me off of her. Started beating me. Threatening her. I think there were six or seven of them. Bruiser types. Trolls. I couldn’t get a shot in, they kept me on the ground and kicked at me. When they figured out what she was....God.” His throat closed up. “I couldn’t do anything to stop them. I tried. Broke two fingers lashing out and screamed my throat raw for help. Music was loud at the bar though. I don’t think anyone ever heard me.” 

“Did they kill her?” Fili’s blankness didn’t break. It was a journalistic inquiry, all curiosity and no feeling. 

“They cracked her head against the pavement. They thought she was dead. Left us there like we both were. I was able to get into the bar for help though I don’t remember how anymore. Ambulances came. I lost consciousness. She was in a coma for three days. Permanent brain damage when she woke up. Couldn’t dress herself, couldn’t feed herself, could barely talk.” 

“But she got better?” Was that a trace of hope? Kili doubted it, turned the question over a few times wondering. Delaying.

“No. Not really. She can do some basic things on her own, but not enough to trust her on her own. She talks like a toddler. Simple things. I visit her as often as I can. She seems to recognize me, but she can’t-” He rolled his eyes upward to stop the burning from manifesting into anything more. “She can’t remember my name.” 

“Shit.” Fili said softly. 

“Yeah.” Kili took a few deep breaths, waited for the sorrow to subside. “So that’s it. That’s the story you couldn’t wait to hear. Happy now?” 

“You know I’m not.” 

There was four feet between them. It could’ve been a mile. 

“Offer stands. I can get you back to Mom if that’s what you want.” 

“I want to go for a walk.” Fili said, measured. Calm. Always so fucking calm just when Kili thought he’d fly apart at the seams. “See the city.” 

He left Kili standing there. Just limped away into the house, leaving him raw to the elements. As if Kili hadn’t peeled off his skin and let him see the muscle underneath. The only thing Kili could do was sit back down and try to collect his scattered parts back together. 

“When I was a lad, I had a dear friend.” 

“Fuck!” Kili jumped off the bench. Bilbo watched him serenely from the other side. “Where did you come from?” 

“I’m a quiet walker.” Bilbo shrugged. “Sit back down now. I’m trying to tell you a story.” 

“I’m not in the mood for stories. How much did you hear?” Kili sat anyway, but only because he lacked the energy to storm off. 

“Enough. Listen now.” Bilbo smiled faintly. “I had a friend, Charles Took. Brave fellow. Always eager to go out into the world. We were very close as boys. Closer still when we were teenagers. I loved him.” 

“Oh.” Kili looked Bilbo over again, trying to fit this new idea in with the image he’d begun to build in his head. 

“He didn’t love me.” There’s no regret there and Kili had to wonder how long that had taken. “I didn’t have to ask to know that. I didn’t even try. He was the adventurous one, not me. That’s what I was thinking about before I left my cozy house to get rained on. I was thinking that my life had become a series of chances not taken. Maybe it’d kill me to try, but I had to find out. It’s amazing to me that you learned that so young.” 

“I didn’t have a choice.” Kili gave him a broken smile. “She was the kind of person that made the way so clear.” 

“It takes two for that, I think.” 

“You should come with us. With me.” He decided. “No matter what happens. You’d like San Francisco. It’s a little kinder to people like us.” 

“Like us.” Bilbo laughed softly. “Do you know that I’ve never been a part of any kind of ‘us’? I rather like the sound of it.” 

“Yeah. So did I.” 

Us had been him and Fili first. Before anything else. Us had been two boys at play. Then it had been him and Tauriel, a force to reckon with against the world. He’d thought he could make an us again, build it up from scraps. 

“He’ll be back.” Bilbo said confidently. 

“You don’t know that.” 

“Of course I do. He left all his things behind.” 

“What things? He has a duffel bag in the camper. He could live without that.” 

“He’s a man that doesn’t have much, my friend. I think he needs every scrap of what remains.” 

“I know that feeling.” 

“So do I.” 

Bilbo sat with him in the growing heat, a steady companion in that first gut wrenching hour. The rest of the day saw Kili adrift. He stayed away from Elrond’s strange politeness and the rest of the maddeningly icy crowd of guests. Home had never seemed to so far away. 

When it got dark, he climbed into bed without any plans of sleeping. To his surprise, Bonnie jumped in with him. She’d been absent all day and he’d assumed Fili had taken her. The warmth of her small body on his stomach settled the roiling there a little and let him close his eyes without fear of what may lay behind them. 

_“All that is gold does not glitter,” she recited, brushing through his hair, “not all those who wander are lost.”_

_“The old that is strong does not wither,” Fili crouched in front of him, deep bags under his eyes, “Deep roots are not reached by frost.”_

_“I don’t understand.” Kili wept, great shaking sobs that produced nothing at all._

_“You go where you must and do as you must, my love.” She kissed him, wet lipped. “There’s nothing to grasp, but this: you’re a startling creature full of beautiful things and your heart is a vast forest.”_

_“We hurt to heal.” Fili cupped his chin. His eyes were all wrong, ablaze with some inner light. “We heal to hope.”_

_“And hope is all you require.” She kissed him again and then the heat of her at his back was gone._

__

“Quiet now.” Fili’s hand was on his forehead. It was impossibly dark and everything stank of liquor. “Just...be quiet and go back to sleep.” 

“I can’t.” He whined, still half-under. “It’s all waiting for me there.” 

“Nothing will get you.” Fili slurred. “I’m here, okay? Right here.” 

“But you’ll be gone in the morning.” 

Fili said nothing. The covers rose and fell, letting in a bitter draft. 

“Kili?” 

“What?” 

“Did they catch the guys? The ones that beat you?” 

“No. Never bothered trying.” 

“What? Why not? You should’ve gone to the cops!” 

“Oh.” Kili closed his eyes. “Sometimes I forget.” 

“Forget what?” 

“How innocent you can be.” He turned, giving Fili his back. “It was the cops that did the beating. They probably intended to raid the bar, but backed off when they thought they’d killed her. It happens.” 

“It happens.” Fili repeated dully. “My God.” 

“I don’t believe in one anymore.” Kili yawned. “Don’t see the point.” 

A hand settled on his head, stroking clumsily over his hair. It pulled a little and wasn’t quite right, but he fell asleep anyway and dreamed of nothing at all.


	11. From Nevada to Los Angeles, Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Contains drug use and suicidal ideation.

The horrid choking noise of someone getting sick woke Kili faster than any alarm clock. He stayed in bed for an ambivalent moment, adding together the lingering smell of booze with the retching and coming up with Fili. He should probably leave him to suffer. 

“Fuck.” The word, deep and heartfelt, probably wasn’t meant to reach Kili’s ears, but they got him to his feet anyway. 

The bathroom, decadent and marble, had taken on all the charm of a bar’s dumpster. Fili sat slumped in front of the toilet, his skin grey and eyes bloodshot. Wordlessly, Kili saturated a washcloth with hot water, wrung it out and handed it to him. Fili took it and wiped his face as if it the action pained him. 

“Land in the bottom of a barrel?” 

“Something like that.” Fili’s voice had been reduced to hoarse rasp. “Got something for you.” 

“Do I want it?” 

“Dunno.” Fili reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick wad of cash. “Should cover my half of the expenses.” 

“Where the hell did you get this?” Kili took it, counting out twenties with wide eyed bewilderment. “There’s like six hundred dollars here!” 

“Seven.” Fili winced. “Don’t shout, for the love of God.” 

“Where did you get it?” 

“Sold my soul on the corner of Vine and Garden.” Fili said dryly. “I was surprised I had one left worth anything too.” 

“That’s not fucking funny.” 

“Do I look like I’m laughing?” Fili gently scooted back until he could rest his head against the wall, closing his eyes with a groan. His prosthetic was gone, hopefully not lost somewhere on the bender. The skin looked raw and abused around the scar tissue. “It was poker. Backroom game. I’m good.” 

“Good.” Kili repeated dully. 

“I had a lot of time to practice over there.” His eyelids looked too thin like maybe the blue of his iris’ could show right through. “Don’t worry, no shady characters are going to come after me or something. It’s legitimate.” 

“You did this while you were drunk?” 

“No, I got drunk afterwards. Used to be seven-fifty in there. The booze here is ridiculous. Paid forty for a bottle of whiskey. I could eat for a month on forty dollars. But it seemed like the thing to do.” 

“I don’t understand you.” Kili looked at the pile of bills. 

“That makes two of us.” 

“I can’t take this.” 

“Why not?” Fili cracked open one eye. “You can’t fool me. I know you’re not living some crazy extravagant life. You saved for this, you said. How much you have left to pay the rent when we get back?” 

“I paid up until the end of the year.” He grated out. “Didn’t know how long this would all take and I wanted to be sure there was a place...well. That I still had it.” 

“End of the year. Lot of money for that. Gas. Food. Keeping Marigold trundling along. And you don’t work full time. So. Take it.” 

It was a lot of money. Six months rent at least. 

“I was managing.” 

“Now you can do better than manage.” 

“You’re going back, aren’t you?” He swallowed down hard. “Might as well use some of this. Fly first class for once. Could be fun.” 

“No.” 

“Why not? Heard they save all the really hot stewardess-” 

“No, I’m not going back to Brooklyn.” Fili cracked open one eye. “It’s too fucking early to have a heart to heart. Go stash the money somewhere and find me some damned coffee. We should get the hell out of this godforsaken town. Wasn’t there some crack in the ground you wanted to see?” 

“But-” 

“No.” Fili said sharply. “I just...I can’t yet. Let me...I gotta make it make sense. Just get me some coffee, for the love of God.” 

Kili tucked the money into his duffel bag, piling it under his dirty underwear to deter anyone that might pry. 

He didn’t get Fili a coffee. Whatever tatters remained of his pride wouldn’t allow him to sink to fetch and carry so soon after the wound had been bloodied. Instead, he walked the grounds and squinted outward, taking in the bizarre skyline. 

“Do you think we’ll stay here much longer?” 

“Jesus! Don’t do that!” Kili grabbed at his chest. “You’re like a damn cat.” 

“Am I?” Bilbo scanned the horizon. “I don’t much like casinos. I walked around a few last night. Not to my taste.” 

“I don’t think I’d like them much either. Too commercial for me.” His braid had started to come undone from sleep and he pushed restlessly at the stray strands. “We’ll head out this afternoon. Go see the canyon. Maybe sleep out there.” 

“Excellent.” 

They packed up Marigold in silence, Fili carrying his duffel and hidden behind the too large sunglasses. Elrond appeared just as they were ready to leave. 

“One last delivery.” He tucked a beautifully starched envelope into Kili’s hands. “For your Uncle.” 

“How do you know Thorin?” 

“You would be surprised at the thin webbing of this world and how often in interconnects.” Elrond smiled mildly. “Good day to you messanger and may your journey be swift and easy.” 

“Um. Yeah. Okay.” Kili swallowed. “Thanks.” 

“What’s that?” Fili asked as Kili passed him the envelope. 

“Another leg of the F and K delivery service apparently.” 

To Kili’s consternation, going to the Grand Canyon required them to backtrace. A week ago he would have been delighted with the delay, but now the extra time seemed stupid, dead space hanging limply between them. Fili didn’t play the guitar on the four hour drive or seem to fall asleep. He only started into the distance, stroking Bonnie’s fur with a listlessly irregularity. Bilbo deserted Kili too, in favor of an exhausted nap on the kitchenette’s floor. 

Out of desperation, he switched on the radio and hummed along to the top forty just to fill the air with companionable noise.

“Did you find a directing sign,” He asked along with the music, “On the straight and narrow highway? Would you mind a reflecting sign, just let in shine within your mind.” 

To his surprise, Fili joined in at the chorus in a rough rumble, 

“Someone is waitin’, hey just for you, spinnin’ wheel spinnin’ to. Drop all your troubles by the river side, catch a painted pony let the spinnin’ wheel riiiiide.” 

“Thought you didn’t know Blood, Sweat and Tears.” Kili ventured when the song faded into an advertisement for toothpaste. 

“Never said that. I’m familiar. Just still prefer the Beatles.” 

Kili listened to some kid boast about his fresher breath for a bit before venturing, 

“You’re still going to stay with me in San Francisco? Or you want me to find someplace else. Ori and Dori have a spare room, I think.” 

Fili scratched around the base of Bonnie’s tail until she left out a contented huff. The kid on the radio became a woman explaining the benefits of her new washer. 

“What happened to you?” 

“Huh?” Kili risked looking away from the road. Fili looked right back. 

“I get what happened to...her. But you got the crap kicked out of you. Never seen a mark on you though.” 

“Oh. Um. It was all healable stuff. Broke three fingers on my left hand and the wrist, but that got set well, so there’s only a little stiffness. My ribcage was all purple and black for awhile. I still get weird headaches sometimes though. That can happen after a bad concussion, I guess.” 

Fili’s hand stilled on Bonnie’s back, 

“You guess?” 

“That’s what the doctors with the nice white pills told me.” Kili shrugged. “Apparently there’s a syndrome or something. Post-concussion syndrome? I don’t know.” 

“And no one thought it was odd that the two of you came in that way? No one asked a single fucking question?” 

“Of course they asked.” Kili blinked. “I lied. Obviously.” 

“Because they were cops?” 

“Because if the staff knew why we got the crap kicked out of us, they probably wouldn’t have helped us.” Kili changed lanes, weaving around a slow moving sedan. “I said she was dressed up for a costume party. God. She would have fucking hated to hear me say it, but you know.” 

“No, I clearly don’t know.” Fili grunted. “They’re doctors, do you really thing they would’ve-” 

“Kicked us out or given us shitty treatment? Do you think that’s the first time I’d danced that jig?” Kili wished Marigold had a little extra horsepower on them. It would’ve been a good time to speed. “My own goddamn brother thinks I’m a fucking monster. Why shouldn’t a stranger?” 

“I never called you a monster.” 

“You might as well have. I’m scary now, aren’t I? Or else you wouldn’t have turned tail and ran.” 

“Are we there yet?” Bilbo asked drowsily from behind them. 

“Quarter of a mile out.” Kili snapped. “Might as well get your camping shit together.” 

“Right.” Bilbo stumbled around in the back. “Sorry.” 

He spent the next five minutes navigating parking lots and trying not to give into the impulse to drive them all over the side of the cliff. It wasn’t that he wanted to die, but really living could go suck lemons right now. 

Except the view was actually rather spectacular. He’d accidentally found a perfect spot to come to rest, a somewhat secluded lot that let anyone walk right up to the edge. For once, he didn’t linger to see if Fili made it out of the camper. Instead, he strode forward until he could sit right down on the edge, his feet dangling into empty space. 

The world broke open beneath him. A thousand layers of red and orange and pale pink, it stood exposed. The river oozed through, a trickling live vein amid the ruin. He knew from the battered guide book that it was the river that had done this. Thousands upon thousands of years of erosion worrying away at porous stone until all it could do was give way. 

Kili could have sat there for a thousand years himself, lost in the impossibly scenery that breathed around him. Each passing minute changed the angle of light, casting shadows in unexpected places. Only his body betrayed him, finally reminding him when the sun touched down that he hadn’t eaten anything in hours or taken a bathroom break. After a quick check that there were no observers, he took a piss right over the side, watching the thin stream of urine arc upwards and then fall into the abyss to join with the ancient water. 

It took doing scrambling back up the hill he had descended with no problem hours before in full daylight. By the time he reached the top, the palms of his hands were raw bloody mess. The camper was dark, but he found his first aid kit and washed out the cuts with the stored water. He made a messy job it and it reminded him of the still healing wounds that Fili was sporting. Kili had never thought to check them for infection after the first two or three days. He wondered if Fili would let him look now. 

Strains of hesitant guitar led him toward Bilbo’s pitched tent and a small fire. 

“There you are!” Bilbo beamed, handing Kili a paper plate topped with a hamburger. “We’d thought you’d fallen in.” 

“I can see you were very concerned.” He said dryly, but he took the food ravenous enough to ignore the charred underside of the burger. 

Bonnie perked up and ran over to circle his feet a few time as if to make up for previous negligence. He gave her a bite of his hamburger, pleased that someone apparently gave a damn. Even if she was just in it for the dead cow. 

“I knew where you were.” Fili said evenly, before starting ‘Eleanor Rigby’ over again from the top. 

“Could you have possibly fixated on a more depressing song?” He slumped down, folding his legs sloppily. 

“There’s worse.” 

“Not many.” The sky captured his attention, a spread of stars that rivaled the night of the concert in their shine. He dropped backward, uncaring of the dust that would doubtless cling to his hair and clothes. He wished he’d brought the weed from the car. Losing himself in the night’s song seemed like a better alternative. 

“What do these do anyway?” When he tuned back in, Fili was showing something to Bilbo. 

“No idea. Do you sautee them? I always liked mine with onions. Grew wild behind the house.” 

Sinking sensation in his stomach, Kili sat up too quickly making his head swim. The brown bag in Fili’s hand confirmed his worries. 

“No.” He reached across the fire to grab the bag. 

“Why not?” Fili’s eyes narrowed, then widened comically. “Shit. What happened to your hands?” 

“I lost a fight with the rock face.” 

“Ouch.” 

“Just stings a bit.” Kili took advantage of Fili’s distraction to snatch the bag away. “And these don’t go with onions.” 

“All mushrooms go with onions.” Said Bilbo. 

“Not these.” He groaned. “For someone who keeps accusing me of being a drug addict, you’re awfully fast to pop foreign substances into your mouth.” 

“I never said you were an addict.” Fili stared at the bag. “What kind of drug? Is it like the acid? Or the weed?” 

“It’s...neither.” He could feel the nebulous weight in his hand. “It’s sort of a mind’s eye opener. There’s a few visual hallucinations, but nothing like what you get on acid. More like shapes and colors and stuff. It’s supposed to connect you to the whole universe.” 

“You’ve taken it.” 

“Well. Yeah. It’s good. I never really got what people claim to get out of it. It does make everything feel vast.” 

“How do you take it?” Fili took the bag back and Kili gave into the inevitable. 

“Chewed. You’ll want something to wash it down with afterwards. Tastes fucking awful.” 

“Interesting.” Bilbo took the bag from Fili, shaking a few of the small caps out on his palm. “May I?” 

“Oh, why the hell not?” Kili threw up his hands. “Let’s all get fucked up right next to a thousand foot drop. What could go wrong?” 

“We’re a ways off from the edge.” Fili took his share and passed the last of it to Kili. There was just enough for three grown men. 

Kili chewed through his share in pained silence, washing it down with a flat Coke. Bonnie watched him with her nose wrinkled up. 

“I know, girl.” He picked her up and headed back toward the camper. No reason she shouldn’t be safe even if the rest of them had lost their damn minds. 

He wasn’t counting on Fili following him back into the darkened cave of their temporary home. 

“Safer in here, isn’t it?” Fili shrugged. “Anyway, it’ll get cold. Bilbo says he likes it.” 

“We can’t just leave him alone if he’s never tripped before.” 

They went back out and gathered Bilbo up under his protests and shepherded him inside too. The camper wasn’t exactly warm, but with the three of them generating heat at least they wouldn’t freeze. 

“I think I see something.” Bilbo held up his hand, wiggiling his fingers slowly. “Huh.” 

“Takes a while sometimes.” Kili already felt the soft slow promising sink of it settling into his bones. “Might want to sit down for now.” 

He had no idea how Bilbo passed the rest of the night. Maybe in the front seat where they found him passed out the next morning or roving around the cliffside, only to find his way back before they could wake. Kili didn’t know and the details didn’t matter. 

What mattered was how Fili flipped open the bed about forty-five minutes in and forcibly snuggled Kili down onto the sheets. They weren’t actually touching in that many spots, just the solid weight of Fili’s hand pressed on Kili’s chest and the point of his intact foot grazing Kili’s calf. 

“It’s all over with colors.” Fili muttered into Kili’s ear. 

“Yeah, I see it.” He did too. The streaky pinks and blues of the world impressed on the back of his eyelids. “Do you feel at one with the universe or whatever?” 

“No. I feel bigger though. Like I could fit the whole world inside of me.” 

“Oh. That’s cool.” 

“I should tell you things.” Fili yawned. 

“You did, remember? Or is there more?” 

“There’s always more. Been on this earth two decades. That’s a lot of time for things.” 

“I was there for most of it.” Kili reminded him. 

“But you didn’t see. Which was good.” Fili rubbed the point of his nose against Kili’s shoulder. “Very good. Because if you could see what I was really made of, you never would have looked up to me. I liked that you did that.” 

“You were the best older brother.” Kili said with a loyalty that time and experiance couldn’t rob from his younger self. “You always kept me safe.” 

“S’why I had to go.” Fili rumbled. “Had to get away from you.” 

Kili tried to absorb the pain from that and didn’t even know where to begin. In his drugged state, he thought he could see the damage, read lines splintering out from Fili’s fingers across his cracked rib cage. 

“I’m sorry I was such a miserable little brother.” 

“No! No. Not what I meant. Had to keep you safe. That’s why I went.” 

“Keep me safe? By leaving me? Fi, that doesn’t make sense. I missed you all the time. I always thought...if you’d been there from the beginning. Maybe you would have understood.” He sighed, watched the fissures heal and break open again. “You would’ve liked her. Her fire. How strongly she could believe in something. How she could make life into what she wanted. Until the end.” 

“I can’t understand that.” Fili spread his hand wider as if he could snatch Kili’s heart straight from his chest. “How does something like that just jump from one person to another? Is it a disese?” 

“She didn’t infect me, you idiot.” 

“Not her. Me.” Fili groaned, rolling over on his back and breaking the connection between them. “I did something. Must’ve. Didn’t leave fast enough.” 

“I don’t understand.” Kili wished the ceiling would stop breathing so he could concentrate. 

“I made you sick. I was sick. Am sick. Will, most likely, always be sick.” 

“There’s nothing sick about you.” Kili protested. “You’re healthy.” 

“There’s nothing healthy about the things I thought. The things I wanted. I was so fucking happy the day they accepted my forms. I don’t know how I could’ve stayed.” 

“You’re not making sense.” 

“I know.” Fili laughed, it shook the bed and Kili gritted his teeth against the rising motion sickness. “Oh, God. Don’t I know.” 

They fell asleep like that, lying side by side like two planks of wood. Shrooms had always knocked Kili out and saved him from the lucid creeping dreams that acid always fostered on him. He didn’t wake until the sun had fully risen. Fili was gone, but Bilbo snored onward in the front seat. Bonnie had also gone missing. 

“Hope he lets her pee over the side.” He said to no one. 

He scrubbed his face and started the long process of undoing the dusty braid. He let his hair hang loose, a sheltering blanket around his shoulders as he headed out into the brutal heat. It took him longer to find Fili without the siren call of the guitar. Instead he stumbled through underbrush until he spotted a golden head. 

The spot wasn’t nearly as treacherous as the one Kili had chosen the night before. Fili said a few feet back from the edge, holding Bonnie’s leash in a white knuckled grip while she stayed prudently at her side. 

“Should we pretend that you didn’t say anything?” Kili asked as he cleared a spot beside Fili. “Or do you want to tell me that it was just the drugs?” 

“When you turned fifteen, you shot up about five inches.” Fili picked up a loose rock balancing it in his hand. 

“Yeah, Mom kept threatening to stunt my growth. No idea how she thought she could do that.” 

“Yeah. You went from kid to teenager all at once.” Fili rolled the rock between his fingers. “I could see the man you’d become in the way you held yourself. In the questions you asked.” 

“Oh. Was he a good man?” 

“Kili.” Fili threw the rock as hard as he could. It arched upward, seemed to suspend itself in midair for a breathless moment before disappearing soundlessly on its long journey to the bottom of the canyon. “You are a good man.”

Kili stared at him. 

“You are.” Fili said firmly. “You care about people. You ask the right questions. You took me on this crazy trip because you thought it would help both of us. Maybe you’re even right. I don’t always agree with what you do. I don’t always understand it even, but I don’t doubt that it comes from a good heart.” 

“You’re confusing the hell out of me, I hope you know that.” 

“I know.” Fili picked up another rock, tossing this one without ceremony. “When you were fifteen, I should have just been a proud big brother. I should have watched you graduate high school and applauded and set you up on dates with pretty girls.” 

“Wouldn’t have helped.” 

“Not what I meant.” Fili gathered up Bonnie, holding her close as if she could protect him from his own confession. “I looked at my brother, my precious baby brother...and I thought things that Lucifer himself whispers into people’s ears. I thought you looked...beautiful. More beautiful than anyone I’d ever known.” 

“You wanted me.” Kili’s blood turned to ice. 

“I didn’t know what to call it.” Fili kissed the top of Bonnie’s head, let her lick at his face. “I knew I wanted to stay with you forever and that’s why I had to go. I couldn’t risk hurting you. Ruining you like that.” 

“You never would’ve done it.” Kili said with a certainty that came from that same old well from the night before. “You would’ve torn yourself apart before you did a damn thing.” 

“Maybe. I never wanted to test the theory.” Fili tucked his head down, but he didn’t have the shield of Kili’s hair. His distress radiated from every taut line of his body. “And I broke you anyway, somehow.” 

“I’m not fucking broken.” 

Kili picked up a rock and gave it a heave. It did have a remarkably therapeutic quality. He threw another and another and another. He tossed stones until his arm was sore and his body was covered in sweat. He kept through the pain until Fili had to fight with him to stop. They landed on their knees facing each other, Bonnie barking at the both of them. 

“Stop now.” Fili panted. “I’m sorry, Kili. I’m so fucking sorry. I should never have told you. I’m so sorry.” 

“I’m not broken.” Kili sobbed and he wasn’t sure when he started crying. “This is just who I am. Who I always would’ve been.” 

“Okay.” Fili pressed his forehead to Kili’s, bone meeting bone in a soft tap. “Okay, I believe you.” 

“You’re not sick.” Kili grabbed Fili’s arms. “You’re not. You never did anything wrong. If you think I’m not broken, then you’re not sick.” 

“It’s not the same.” Fili choked. “God, you know it isn’t.” 

“Maybe not.” Kili closed his eyes, shutting away the bright blue burning into him. “But I still say it’s true.”


	12. From Nevada to Los Angeles, Part 3

“There’s a stop I should make outside of L.A.” 

They’d cleaned themselves up the best they could after the cliff-side meltdown. Bilbo was still asleep when they got back though he’d managed to migrate from the passenger seat to his sleeping bag. 

“Where?” Fili pulled out the map, but Kili just shoved it aside. 

“I know how to get there. You don’t have to come in with me.” 

It was a seven hour drive with no stops and Kili saw no reason to make any outside of necessary bathroom breaks. Bilbo woke sluggishly halfway through and fed them all. Kili didn’t taste any of it. He’d emptied himself out into the canyon and he had nothing left. Fili didn’t try, picking aimlessly through a song then stopping halfway through as though he’d forgotten what he was playing. 

Bilbo dozed unhelpfully, then woke to scribble in a little notebook. 

“What are you writing?” Fili asked as they rolled over the county lines into Los Angeles. 

“Oh, nothing really. Bit of journaling. Helps clear the mind. Wonderfully relaxing.” 

Kili and Fili’s eyes met for the first time in hours. Commit all those ugly thoughts to paper? 

“Rather set myself on fire.” Fili muttered and Kili could only nod in fervent agreement. 

They parked in an actual camping ground that night and used the public facilities. Kili sluiced himself off in the cold water, shivering and thoughtless as he tugged fingers through his hair. 

“I could-” Fili started when they both stood damp and vulnerably barefooted at the picnic table next to Marigold. Her purple had dimmed with dust, Kili noticed for the first time. He’d have to wash her off properly soon. She deserved better treatment for keeping them safe through all of the bumps on the long and winding road. 

“Yeah.” Kili said around the lump in his throat. “You should.” 

It was trust, he thought, sitting down between Fili’s legs, handing up the brush. The kind of trust that came from hopeless senseless unconditional love. The kind of love that you had to be born with. The love that came from a face you first saw when your eyes couldn’t focus, a hand that tucked around yours the first wobbly time you walked, arms that held you tight the first time you fell. 

Fili hesitated in the beginning, but the rhythm of the task at hand soothed him eventually. Three clean sections, brushed free of tangles, folded one over the other over the other. Kili’s eyes started to shut without his permission. 

“Done.” Fili tied off the end with a rubber band. “You could practically sit on the end of this now.” 

“I love you.” Kili told his knees. Fili went stiff, the whole line of his good leg tense against Kili’s side. “I just thought you should know. You’re my brother and I’ll always love you.” 

“Oh, Kili.” It was a tender rise and fall. Fili’s hand cupped the back of Kili’s newly exposed neck, a caress that ends almost as soon as it begins. “I sort of forget you’re so young.” 

“I feel forty, a lot of days.” He put his head on Fili’s knee, refusing to break away. 

“Me too.” 

But they weren’t forty, Kili thought as they devoured enough food to power ten men. They were still children, not finished growing. He’d only just given his teen years the finger and Fili hasn’t gotten much further ahead of him. The years that stood between one birth and the next had once seemed an uncrossable river. Now they barely mattered, only significant as scratch marks on forms. Which one of them was care-taking older brother? Which one the younger that required care? 

“I’m still older.” Fili said firmly when Kili posed the question allowed. “Nothing is ever going to make me less your big brother.” 

“Nuh uh.” Kili declared, throwing a balled up napkin at him. 

“Uh huh.” Fili retorted. “I was born first, kid. Even if we live to be a thousand, I’ll still be older than you.” 

It was a weirdly comforting thought. 

They avoided the question of the bed by sleeping outside for the night. It was meant to make up for their missed evening at the canyon, but as Kili stretched out on the picnic table, he knew the avoidance for what it was. This was the only night left to worry about it. Tomorrow, Kili would make his visit and then they’d be on their way. Six hours north to San Francisco. 

“To market to market to buy a fresh pig,” he sing-songed as the moon shone sweetly on him, “home again, home again, jiggety jig.” 

“Jog.” Fili corrected from a few feet away. “Jiggity jog.” 

“Jig sounds better.” 

“But jog is the actual words.” 

“Fuck. Are the nursery rhyme police going to come for me? They’re not very effective. Can’t put a guy back together again even.” 

“Those weren’t police, they were the king’s men.” 

“Ugh.” Bilbo groaned. “Both of you. Go. To. Sleep.” 

“You slept all day.” Fili pointed out. 

“That was the hangover. This is regular rest. Totally different.” 

Kili fell asleep with a small smile on his face. 

The morning erased it, of course. It started off too cold and grew too warm as they drove. Breakfast was stale bread and the last of the cheese, gone hard in the intervening days. Their destination loomed too large in Kili’s mind, overshadowing everything else. 

St. Sebastian’s Institution for the Frail looked nothing like the VA hospital where Fili had stayed. It had generous grounds and a pretty two story building with large windows. 

“You can wait here.” Kili thrust the camper into park. 

“I could, but I won’t.” Fili raised his chin defiantly. 

“I’ll stay.” Bilbo reached out a hand and Bonnie trotted to him. “We’ll take a long walk, meet you back here.” 

St. Sebastian’s didn’t look anything like the VA hospital. But the smell was the same. That antiseptic air that spelled out infirmity the moment the doors opened. A pretty young nurse with a starched uniform looked up as they came in. 

“You’re back!” She got to her feet and came around the desk to embrace Kili. 

“Hello Cecilia. This is Fili. Fili, this is Ms. Cecilia Jackson.” 

“Nice to meet you.” She shook Fili’s hand, took him and dismissed him all in a second before turning back to Kili. “He’s been asking for you.” 

“Really?” He didn’t let hope surge up. He didn’t. 

“Well.” She sighed. “You know. Not by name. But he knows someone is missing.” 

“Oh.” He closed his eyes briefly. “Of course.” 

“He?” Fili asked quietly as Cecilia wrote out guest passes for them. 

“They don’t believe in ‘affirming delusions’ here.” He could say it with only a little bitterness now. “It was the only hospital that would take her in and care for her without charging more than I had. They’ve got a big endowment and don’t mind taking on a few charity cases.” 

“Kili’s one of our most regular visitors.” Cecilia chirped. “Once a month like clockwork and a visit in between sometimes. And him with a six hour drive one way! Very dedicated boy.” 

“Yes.” Fili agreed. “He is.” 

“Teddy is out back.” She slid the passes over. “I don’t think anyone would mind if you stayed longer today since you missed last month.” 

“What was last month?” Fili asked as Kili led them unerringly down sterile hallways. 

“Day I left to head for Brooklyn.” Third door on the right, second door on the left. “Or close to it.” 

“It’s been a month already?” 

Kili shrugged, “I gave up counting the days. It never quite adds up.” 

Fili frowned, brow wrinkling as he started ticking sunsets off on his fingers. He seemed to come up with two different numbers. 

“I’m starting to realize why people think drugs ruin lives. Did we lose time?” 

“Probably.” Two heavy doors finally birthed them back outside onto the modest lawn. “It happens.” 

“It happens.” Fili repeated in a soft mocking tone. “Yeah. To people who get abducted by aliens.” 

“I doubt we were abducted.” Kili spotted a cluster of patients and a nurse at a set of picnic tables. “No scars or anything.” 

“Aliens do not exist.” 

“Don’t they?” Kili surged forward when he spotted her flaming hair from the pack. 

He blocked out everything, but getting to her side. She looked up as he approached, pausing in her task of stringing plastic beads. Her eyes always carried a softly unfocused look now as if she was tuning into reality on a shaking wavelength. 

“Hey, baby.” He sat down beside her. “I missed you.” 

“Hi.” She ducked her head a little. 

“Hi.” He smiled at her as warm and inviting as he knew how. 

“Hi.” She said again. Then to his surprise, she plucked at his wrist until he set it on the table. It took her a lot of concentration and effort, but she managed to tie the beaded string around it. The bracelet hung only a little loose, a bright flare of color on his sun darkened skin. 

“It’s pretty.” He told her. 

“Yes.” She agreed. They’d let her hair grow a little longer than they’d usually allow. It was something like the bob she’d first had when they set out from Brooklyn. The sweep of it only partially covered the scar that looped over her forehead. The initial blow hadn’t caused it, but some rushed attempt to ease the pressure of her swelling brain against her skull. 

He reached up slowly so as not to startle her. She closed her eyes as he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. 

“You’re so beautiful.” He told her with the same reverence he’d always had. It was even true. In the terrible hospital uniform, scarred and robbed of so much of her spark, she was still gorgeous to him. 

“Pretty girl.” She agreed with a bright smile, then tapped his wrist. “Pretty boy.” 

“Yeah, we’re a really good looking couple.” He let the beads clack together. “So what’d you do while I was away?” 

She blinked slowly, head tilted to one side as if considering the question. Her gaze wandered away from his face up to the slate grey sky. When she looked back, there was something a little like recognition in her eyes. 

“I went walking outside my skin.” 

“Did you? Where’d you go?” He kept his voice calm. He’d learned that any show of excitement in her lucid moments seemed to scare them away. 

“I went back to the start. To the beach and the music and the old man with older eyes. I saw a child growing in a garden, a king dressed as a pauper, and the stars dancing. I saw a string, stretching.....I thought it would snap.” She tugged at the piece she’d tied around his wrist. “But it didn’t. And that was....” 

“You going to introduce me?” Fili had ambled over at last, his hand a heavy weight on Kili’s shoulder. 

“You have terrible timing.” Kili growled, but it was too late. Whatever fragile spell had reigned for a moment had popped and left her dazed again. “Baby? This is Fili, my brother. I told you about him, remember?” 

“It’s nice to meet you.” 

“I’m Tauriel.” She said uncertainly. 

“Yes, you are.” Kili smiled encouragingly at her. 

“I’ve heard a lot of good things about you, Tauriel.” Fili sat down beside Kili, a long press of warmth at his back. 

“Yes.” She reached for another bead and a new string. “I am good.” 

“The best.” Kili rolled a loose bead between his fingertips. “Do you remember the necklace I made you? All that amber.” 

“Mhm.” She murmured, a lost syllable without meaning. 

The rest of the visit was quiet, Tauriel beading and Kili keeping up a steady monologue about their trip without any of the stick details. It was a much shorter story that way. He didn’t look to gauge Fili’s reactions and his brother offered no comments. 

“It’s nearly lunch.” An orderly informed him, not unkindly. “Best wind up now.” 

“Okay, thanks.” Kili sighed. “I’ve got to go, baby. Sorry. I’ll be back in a few weeks.” 

“Bye.” She knotted the end of her string, not looking up as he stood. 

“Bye.” 

Fili moved down the bench to fill the vacated space. He said something quiet and she glanced up at him. 

“Don’t break it.” She said sharply and tied the second bracelet around Fili’s wrist. “So so so delicate.” 

“I know.” Fili frowned. 

“A life for a life.” She smoothed the knot down. “I have to go. It’s lunch. Bye.” 

She got up and shuffled away with a crowd of other patients herded by a nurse. Fili watched her go, a queer smile on his face. 

“What did you say?” Kili asked. 

Fili didn’t answer. He held out a hand and Kili pulled him upwards. The tacky plastic beads cracked together. They walked together through the hospital and out the other side. 

“I’m never done saying goodbye to her.” Kili said as they made their way back to Marigold. “Every time I visit I wonder if I should stop. It doesn’t do her any good. She doesn’t notice when I don’t.” 

“She notices.” Fili limped the last few feet to the passenger door. “You sat down and it was like someone had lit her up from the inside.” 

“I didn’t see it.” 

“You’re too busy seeing the person she used to be.” 

“I-” 

“It’s a good thing. You’re probably the only one left who remembers. Someone should carry that for her.” 

Kili chewed that over all the way through a terrible diner lunch. He barely noticed when Fili went up to go to the bathroom and didn’t come back for nearly a half hour. 

“Fell in?” Bilbo teased when Fili slid back into the booth. 

“Just asking a few questions.” He stretched out his leg, slotting his foot between Kili’s spread calves. “We’ve got another last stop.” 

Bewildered and emotionally worn, Kili followed Fili’s directions until they pulled up to a singular spot with very little parking and an abysmal smell. 

“Tar pits?” Kili raised an eyebrow. 

“They’re not exactly stock full of dinosaurs, but it was the best I could do.” Fili shrugged. “Want to see some fossils or not?” 

Kili nodded dumbly and followed after Fili into the small museum building. The tickets were bought with the first bill off of Fili’s ridiculous wad and even though Kili had been the one holding onto it, there was a strangely date like feel to the whole thing. Bilbo wandered off without them immediately, only emphasizing the arrangement. 

Dwelling on it would have to wait though. Kili was immediately enraptured by the sabertooth tiger model and the carefully worked displays of mammoth bones. There were proto-horses too with explanatory plaques that he read only cursorily. It wasn’t the information that intrigued him, but the ancient bone. It had gone into the ground before his ancestors had stood upright and yet survived. They were monuments to death and the triumph of memory. 

The pits outside drew him in too. He watched two young men crouched low in the pits with tiny delicate tools working to free a tiny protrusion from the tar’s jealous embrace. 

“It’s so painstaking. Must take the patience of Job.” Fili half-whispered though there was noise in abundance all around them. 

“Yeah, but I bet they barely notice it passing.” One man conferred with the other and they switched round in careful shuffling steps. “When you’re passionate, patience is just part of the flow.” 

“Hmm.” Fili shifted his weight, knocking a litting into Kili. 

“Hm, what?” 

“Just hm.” 

Kili watched the archaeologists for a long time. Then he walked the grounds and went back through the museum again. He wanted to take some tiny piece of it all home, swallow down bone dust until that age settled within him. 

“Here.” Fili tucked a small box into his pocket as they departed. 

“What is it?” 

“Just something. Probably stupid.” 

Kili opened it while Fili used the restroom. It hadn’t come from the tar pit gift shop which mostly sold logo’d goods. It had no wrapping at all just a white box with a thin piece of cotton. He twitched the cotton out of the way. 

It wasn’t something stupid at all. 

“I don’t know if I should have these.” He said when Fili came back. The sun was setting behind Fili’s blond head and for a tricky moment, his head blazed with a golden nimbus. 

“I don’t want them, but I shouldn’t throw them away. I figured you can keep them safe enough for me.” 

For years, Kili had gone out of his way to avoid even symbols of violence. He wanted a peaceful world. He wanted everyone to turn their swords into plowshares. Yet he slipped the chain over his neck without a second thought. Maybe they were symbols of war, but like La Brea’s bones, they were also a symbol of survival. 

They were cold against his skin and the chain caught up with the hemp necklace. He didn’t care. He had Tauriel’s bracelet around his wrist and Fili’s dog tags around his neck. For the first time in a long time, he felt properly weighted down. Tethered to Earth and all the things on it that he loved.


	13. Home again, home again

Kili would freely admit to taking the long way around the next morning. Not to buy time, but for one specific required moment. They’d spent the night before debating the merits of leaving for San Francisco right away or waiting until morning. The conversation went on so long that Bilbo fell asleep in the middle which sort of made the decision for them. Kili had gone for a walk after that, spending the last brazen hours away from home getting a little lost. 

When he got back, Fili had already gone to sleep. Kili watched the rise and fall of his ribs and counted his breaths. Without giving it much thought, he clamored under the blankets beside his brother and drifted into undisturbed sleep. Kili had woken before the others despite being the last to bed. He’d spent some quality time with maps and gave Bonnie a thorough belly rub. 

“We’ll stop by my uncle’s place before my apartment.” Kili announced as the others stirred. He’d bought coffee already and the smell painted a reverent smile on Bilbo’s face. “He can probably find a place for you.” 

“Could he?” Bilbo sipped at his styrofoam cup. “I don’t really need one. I figured I’d go south after this. I’ve always wanted to go to Mexico.” 

“Up to you.” Kili shrugged. “But if you want it, it’s on the table.” 

“Thorin.” Fili said with an equal mix of horror and reverence. “I hadn’t even really been thinking of him.” 

“He’s just the same.” Kili shrugged. “He’ll be happy to see you.” 

Fili’s lips thinned into a line, but he didn’t argue. He’d always been Thorin’s favorite, the brave soldier gone to battle. He loved Kili too, of course, had even come rely on him a little since the move, but it wasn’t the same deep understanding. What was Fili worried about? That Thorin would read some of his secrets in the lines around his eyes? That he would be judged for the limb he had lost or the anger he had gained? 

“Is there any weed left?” Fili downed the last of his coffee. 

They rolled across California with a skunked cloud trailing behind them. Kili didn’t take a toke, but the smoke wound into his nose and lungs anyway. Fili plucked idly at his guitar, eyes red rimmed while Bilbo scratched into his journal. 

“Let the sunshine in...” Fili sang almost under his breath, the notes cresting upward, “Let the sunshine in... ”

The sun did shine in, gold and hot as their detour finally placed them exactly where Kili wanted to be. Weeks and miles after setting out from Brooklyn, a bright purple camper crossed the Golden Gate Bridge into the sweet summer afternoon. 

The powerful beat of ‘home, home, home’ shuddered through Kili. He hadn’t known how much he missed the winding streets and the salted air. He wanted to leap from Marigold and go running wild through city, revisiting all his favorite spots. He babbled and pointed out landmarks both famous and personal. 

“And this is Uncle’s shop.” He slammed the camper into a space meant for a much smaller car. 

“We should’ve showered before this.” Fili said grimly, but he got out. Bonnie peed immediately, marking her new territory. 

Thorin didn’t have much in the way of a storefront. It was more of a workshop with a tiny counter. Kili walked right around the front, empty of life and into the back. It must’ve been lunch hour, leaving only Thorin behind. He was bent over a delicate piece, his greying hair swept back in knot. 

“I brought him home.” Kili said when he thought Thorin’s attention could be spared. 

“I know, lad. I’ve got eyes.” Thorin soldered the last piece then set down his tools. For all his calm, Kili could read the joy in his eyes. 

“Hello, Uncle.” Fili stepped forward, rocking a little as if the shop were at sea. 

“Look at you.” Thorin sighed and stood, taking his own advice and really looking at Fili. “You’ve seen battle now. What did you think?” 

“That I never wanted to see it again.” Fili sounded nearly as exhausted as that first day in the hospital. 

“Ai, you’re a wise one.” Thorin embraced Fili so throughly that Kili lost sight of golden hair. Thorin seemed to swallow him up. “You’ve made it back though. That’s the sticking point.” 

“Kili brought me.” Fili sighed. “I wouldn’t have otherwise.” 

“He’s become good at fetch and carry.” Thorin teased, but he had a hug for Kili too. 

“Funny you should say that.” Kili pulled back and handed over Elrond’s letter. “We’ve been playing messenger all this way. Would you believe we met someone who knew you?” 

“Two.” Fili corrected. 

“I would.” Thorin ran his fingertips over the edges of the letter. “These people have a way of cropping up.” 

With an efficient slice from a pocket knife, Thorin freed the letter and read it quickly. Then he snorted and crumpled it in one hand. 

“What was it?” 

“An invitation to a war I used to fight.” Thorin got out his lighter and set the letter ablaze. “A test, I think. And this time I choose to pass.” 

He could be coaxed to say no more. 

“I don’t understand.” Fili groaned in frustration. “We’ve carried all of it for so long and that’s the end? No information and no conclusion?” 

“Life has no conclusions.” Thorin shrugged. “Except death, but let’s avoid that one for as long as we can.” 

“Kili!” A familiar voice cried out, feet stampeding in. “I saw that ugly camper outside! Are you back?” 

“I’m here!” He agreed, swept up in Bofur’s enthusiastic greeting. “I’ve got a few additions as well.” 

“Fili!” Bofur beamed and the hug became a threeway. 

“And this is Bilbo.” Fili managed to get out, waving in Bilbo’s direction. 

“Hello.” Bilbo tilted his head slightly. “Do I know you?” 

“Not yet.” Bofur grinned. “But I always say that strangers are only friends that you haven’t met yet.” 

After that it was stampede of joyous reunion, Balin, Dwalin, Oin, Gloin, Bifur, Bombur, Dori, Ori and Nori shoved into the shop and each eager to greet the prodigal sons. 

“I don’t suppose they’ll be any work done this afternoon.” Thorin laughed. “Out of my shop all of you.” 

The group tumbled out and onto the street, shoving and joking as they went. Bilbo had fallen into deep conversation with Balin, his eyes growing wider and wider as they spoke while Fili listened to Dori’s recitation of family news missed. 

Kili waded through them, a part, but apart until Ori caught up with him. 

“You look better than when you left.” He slung an arm around Kili’s shoulders without the awkward angle he would have needed before Kili had left. 

“And you put on an inch or two.” Kili smiled. “It’s been only a few weeks, no need to be so ambitious.” 

“It had to happen eventually.” Ori flushed with pleasure. He was often lost in the tumult of Thorin’s gathered men, but he and Kili shared the bond of being too young to be taken seriously most of the time. “I should return your board, huh?” 

“Unless you want me to break into your place and steal it back. Guess you liked it?” 

“Loved.” Ori said fervently. “But I’ve been saving. Going to pick up my own soon enough.” 

They funneled into one of the local sports bars, ordering enough beer to drown the party and food all around despite lunch having just ended. Thorin sat at the end of the table, somber, but clearly at home at the head of the table. Fili found his way back to Kili’s side, eyes a little wild. 

“Alright?” 

“Yeah.” Fili took up his beer, swallowing half of it down. “Just...I forgot.” 

“Forgot what?” 

“Where home was.” He blinked rapidly then finished off his glass. 

“Welcome back.” Kili bumped their shoulders together. 

They stayed like that until Ori marched in the front door carrying Kili’s surfboard over his head like a triumphant warrior. 

“Beachward, my brothers!” Bofur leaped to his feet. “Kili’s been away from the ocean too long to sit here another moment.” 

“You don’t have to go.” Kili said quietly. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” Fili got up. “I want to see you on that thing.” 

Marigold got packed full with boards and too many competing voices. Thorin and a few of the others declined the mass transportation in favor of their bikes, the thick growl of their engines running counter to Marigold’s puttering purr. Bonnie was in a fervor, trying to say hello to everyone before collapsing into Fili’s lap with a dazed bliss at all the attention. 

“Where’d you get such a pretty girl?” Bofur asked. 

“Long story.” Fili set his hand on her chest. “We sort of saved each other.” 

“Sounds like you’ve both got a few stories worth telling out of this trip.” 

“Nah.” Kili winked at Fili. “Nothing interesting about driving.” 

“Lot of greasy food and sleeping rough.” Fili winked right back and the casualness sent a frisson of delight through Kili. 

“Nice to know you boys still keep your own council.” Bofur snorted. “Always thick as thieves.” 

The impact of that statement was completely undermined by the appearance of the ocean. Summer was a terrible surfing season in San Francisco, the waves nowhere near the glory of the winter months, but Kili didn’t give a goddamn. It was his home turf, the lovely blue of the ocean sparked to new heights under the afternoon sun. 

He practically tore off his clothes in his haste, but he recalled Fili at the last moment. He turned to find Fili waiting patiently. He’d lost his shirt somewhere, the low slung line of his khaki shorts drawing Kili’s eyes down and down and Good Lord, how had he missed all of this? The return of meat to Fili’s bones had brought with hard lines of muscle, the sort of build that came from toil and sweat. Their days in the sun lended formerly pale skin a sweet caramel tone and brought a flotilla of freckles to the fore over shoulders and nose. 

Numbly, Kili gave his shoulder to Fili and they made their way down to the shore. It didn’t occur to either of them to look for the others’ reactions. Whatever they thought of Fili’s dependence, the brothers would live in ignorance of it. 

“You gonna swim?” 

“Nah.” Fili flung out a towel. “Gonna watch you on that thing. See the madness for myself.” 

“It’s awesome, is what it is.” Kili beamed and turned to head back to Marigold for his board, only to find Ori waiting with it behind him. 

“There’s supposed to be a few decent ones today.” Ori put the board into Kili’s hands. “Missed seeing you out there.” 

“Not as much as I missed being there.” Kili didn’t wait a second longer. 

He ran for water like a child returning to his mother’s arms. The water shocked him awake, warm, but fresh and salt shot. The waves were too small for anything impressive, but just the joy of standing up on his board and rushing with the waves to shore was enough. 

The world dropped away. He didn’t think about Fili or the gang splashing around him. He didn’t think about war or drugs or blood on the pavement. He didn’t think about his future or his past. For a blissful hour, all was the present, the water and the balance he had to keep. 

Nothing perfect could last. The sun started to set and he grew chilled. One last wave carried him back to shore. Sand gathered between his toes as he walked back to Fili’s towel. Thorin was speaking with him, low. Fili nodded once and then glanced up. Thorin followed his gaze to Kili. 

“Just something to keep in mind.” Thorin stood and clapped Kili on the shoulder. “I expect you back at work by the end of the week. No one else has your hand with the small pieces and it’s been building up.” 

“Yes, sir.” Kili stuck his board into the sand. “I look forward to it.” 

“I’m sure.” Thorin shook his head and walked off to where Dwalin was tinkering with something on his bike in the parking lot. The others had returned to shore as well. Bilbo seemed to have found a spot by a slowly growing bonfire with gestifulcating Bofur. Kili dropped down next to Fili. 

“Uncle have anything interesting to say?” 

“Offered me a job. I told him I’d think about it.” Fili picked up a handful of sand, letting the grains trickle out between his fingers. 

“I told you, whatever you want to do. We can swing it for awhile.” 

“Wasn’t sure if that offer was still on the table.” 

“You were the one I thought would walk away.” Kili shrugged. “I don’t mind supporting us for a bit. Hell, with the poker money you won I won’t even need to do much. I’ll do a few hours with Thorin a week and that’ll keep us in food and clothes.” 

“I never planned for the future. I figured I’d die there.” Fili stared out over the waves. 

“There’s time to figure it out.” Kili said softly. “World enough and time.” 

No one stopped them from leaving. They wound Marigold through the tangle of streets to Kili’s apartment. They didn’t say much as they grabbed up their bags. 

“There’s stairs.” Kili remembered with sudden chagrin. “Two floors worth.” 

“I’ll manage.” Fili handed his bags to Kili and he did manage. He took each step slowly, but Kili stayed behind him the whole time. He watched the care Fili took, how he never faltered. “Let me guess, you’re the door with the tie dye sheet on it?” 

“Nope. Lots of hippies in this building, I’m all unadorned.” It took Kili a good few minutes to find the key tossed so carelessly into his pack weeks ago. “Remember, I warned you it’s not much.” 

“If it’s got a shower, it’s the Ritz right now as far as I’m concerned.” 

The door opened and issued out a cloud of stale incense and musky weed. Kili flipped the light, gratified when the bulb flickered to life. It wasn’t much of a place really. Small kitchen with Salvation Army table and chairs, living area with pull out sofa and wood slab coffee table, the bedroom with its double bed pushed into the corner and spilling collection of shells loosely gathered on a shelf over the sole window. 

“There is a bathroom.” Kili pointed to the door that vaguely divided the kitchen and living room. “Shower and everything.” 

But Fili had gravitated toward the window. It was strange to see him there, at the foot of the bed where Tauriel had spent so many nights. She’d loved the sliver of the water you could see from the window and all the rooftops. They’d made love there once, her clinging to the sill and his hands pulling her ever closer. 

The memory made Kili bold. He stepped close, close enough to see the pinking tips of Fili’s ears even in the dying light. He put one hesitant hand on Fili’s waist. 

“You shouldn’t.” Fili’s fingers found his, too intimate and too raw as they bent around Kili’s hold.

“You wanted me at fifteen. Am I so repulsive at twenty?” 

“You know you’re not.” Fili dropped his head, exposing all the downy hair at the nape of his neck. “You don’t...you shouldn’t want me back. I don’t think I could take it.” 

“You’re much stronger than you think.” 

“Or weaker. I should resist you.” 

“Why? For my own good? I’m a man grown whether you like it or not. Because society won’t like it? Fuck them. Society robbed me of the last person I loved, they can’t have you both.” 

“We’re blood. You can’t wipe that away.” 

“And I never would try.” Kili bent to kiss the delicate knob of Fili’s spine. “It makes you that much more mine.” 

“This is wrong.” Fili exhaled shakily, his belly quivering under Kili’s palm. 

“Was running away and trying to bury it right? It doesn’t seemed to have worked out well for you.” 

“Shit.” Fili laughed hoarsely. “No. It didn’t.” 

“Go take your shower.” Kili stepped away from him. “I’ll get in after you.” 

“That’s it?” Fili turned. “Showering?” 

“Your filthy, I’m salt encrusted, so yeah. Showering. And then I’m going to pin you down to my bed and explain in great detail why its a place you should stay.” Kili crossed his arms over his chest. “Without words.” 

“Goddamnit.” Fili threw up his hands. “You can’t just-” 

“Watch me. Go shower.” 

To his surprise, Fili did. At a loss while he waited, Kili set about tidying the place a little, despairing of the piles of paper that accumulated everywhere when he was taking classes. There was even a half-finished basket resting on one of them which he decided to shove under the bed. 

When he sat up from pushing it in amid the other crap he kept there, he found himself leaning up against the bed just as he had a thousand times before. Here he’d sat and let her braid his hair, here he’d sat and saw psychedelic visions. Here, he had thought about Fili and wrote badly punctuated letters with only a tenth of what he really wanted to say in them. 

“Your turn.” Fili emerged in a puff of steam, a towel wrapped firmly around his waist and the prosthetic dangling from hand. 

Kili spent his shower working the salted knots from his hair and keeping carefully blank. He emerged into darkness, the bulb extinguished and the city lights dimmed by the drawn curtain. Fili sat up in the bed in his boxers, fidgeting with the blanket. 

“I don’t know how to do this.” 

“Like I do?” Kili sat down beside him. “There’s no guide book for this stuff.” 

“No. It’s not...” Fili trailed off. 

“Talk to me.” 

“That girl at the concert.” 

“Janis fucking Joplin?” 

“No, the other one. Amber.” 

Kili remembered her arched over Fili, the languorous way she’d rode him. Had he been jealous then? Was he now? He waited for bitterness, but it didn’t come. 

“Yeah. What about her?” 

“That was the first time.” Fili groaned. “Fuck. I know. Pathetic.” 

“First...seriously?” Kili’s voice cracked for the first time in years. “But-” 

“Once I knew what I was...it seemed easier just not to. I guess I was high enough not to care with her. It was okay. Nothing the way the guys made it sound.” He coughed once, embarrassed. “She was nice, I guess. I don’t know.” 

“Oh.” Kili wanted to go back in time and slap himself. He’d thought Fili’s blase reaction was that of an experienced soldier. Now though, he wondered how he could have missed the passiveness born of confusion. “Why?” 

Even in the dark he could feel Fili’s incredulous stare. Kili frowned, trying to find what was so obvious that he’d apparently missed it entirely. When it clicked, he made an involuntary choking noise. 

“Yeah.” Fili scrubbed his face with one hand. 

“Because of me? Truly? You were just going to what...pine in celibacy for your entire life over me?” 

“No....well. I guess you could look at it that way, but it wasn’t how I thought about it.” Fili sighed. “There wasn’t anyone else for me.” 

“You don’t know that. There’s a million people-” 

“There’s you. First. Last. It didn’t matter if I never saw you again. You were right about, I couldn’t run from it. ” 

The absolute of it scared Kili down to his marrow. He drew himself in tight to Fili’s side until he could bury himself in the scent of his hair and the even thud of his pulse. Fili submitted to the burrowing, burying his nose into Kili’s hair and locking his arms around his shoulders. It was an ancient comfort, a conference under the blankets when the dark loomed too large in their childhood bedroom. It was new too, the shift of muscle and the ache of the heart grown too large for small bodies. 

“What if I can’t match it?” He asked when the silence grew unbearable. “I don’t know if I could love like that again.” 

“There’s a lot of things that terrify me.” Fili huffed an amused breath. “But that isn’t one of them. I don’t think anyone should carry that around with them.” 

“You make it sound like a curse.” 

“How could I think otherwise? It drove me away from my home, made me miserable for years and kept me from one of the few people in my life who thought I was worth a damn.” Fili swallowed hard. “It made me someone I didn’t want to be.” 

“You did that though. Love is just a feeling. You’re the one that turned it into something to be afraid of.” 

“You were fifteen. Vulnerable. You would’ve-” Fili cut himself off. “I don’t regret going. I don’t regret any of the choices I made. I just wish I hadn’t had to make them at all.” 

“But you did. And now...maybe that was okay. You and me, we’re good now, right? We’re solid. And if we try this and it doesn’t work then it won’t change that. Not for me.” Kili clamored out of their tight embrace, getting to his knees so he could look Fili in the eye. “You won’t lose me.” 

“You can’t promise that.” 

“I think I just did.” Kili reached out slowly, cupped Fili’s cheek in his hand. The bristling sandpaper of his five o’clock shadow wasn’t entirely unfamiliar. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” 

“Yeah, I know.” Fili encircled Kili’s wrist. He closed up the space between them in one surge. 

The kiss began at Kili’s wrist, Fili’s lips a fleeting presence over the twist of bone and went up his exposed arm. It was reverent, worshipful. By the time Fili had progressed to his jaw, everyone of Kili’s nerves had come online and telegraphed electric joy. When their lips finally touched, it hardly mattered. It seemed only the very last in a thousand step process to bring them to that moment. 

When they parted, Fili’s lips had bruised a ruby red and his pupils were blown wide. Kili ran a hand through the bristle of blond hair, dazed and awed. 

“Hey.” Fili said, one fluid syllable. 

“Hey.” Kili touched their foreheads together. 

And there was nothing left to say.


	14. Twenty Years Later

“It was you.” 

The confession was late in coming. Years late. There was grey in Kili’s hair now, a striking twist of it at both temples. Fili loved it even as Kili grumbled. 

“What’s that?” Kili looked up from his work, the jeweler's glass still lodged over his right eye. 

“That day I nearly died. I hear a voice and it was you.” 

There were secrets Fili kept. Nothing fatal. Nothing poisonous. Some of them were even good. But they were things that Kili didn’t need to know. They meant less and less as they years went by, decaying to dust in the box that he’d locked in them. Still, he poured over them in quiet moments, mostly when other people might pray. Maybe his past had become a kind of religion or maybe he’d just lost touch with what was worthy of reverence and guilt. 

The first had been the root of so much decay. Kili had been so much younger than, not only in years, all coltish limbs and good behavior. 

“I’m leaving tomorrow.” Fili had told him, heart in his throat. “Shipping out.” 

“I hate you.” Kili had spat with all the venom of a wronged teenager. 

“I know.” Fili hated himself far more than any fleeting anger Kili could provide. 

They couldn’t talk into that terrible silence, so Fili put on the record their mother had bought. It was meant to be a gift for him, but he wasn’t sure he could take it with him. Kili had sprawled out on the carpet at Fili’s feet, humming until he learned the words well enough to sing along. Fili only learned the lyrics to one song that night and he heard them every day he was away, 

_All the lonely people/where do they all come from?/All the lonely people/where do they all belong?_

Just before Kili fell asleep, his whole body would twitch doglike. Fili had learned the motion by heart a dozen years ago. It pained him a little to see it then, a signal to the end of their last night together. 

“Be safe.” He kneeled down beside Kili’s prone body and swept the hair off his face. “I don’t think I’m coming back, so you’ll have to watch out for yourself from now on.” 

And he’d stolen a kiss. It burned on his lips and haunted him for days afterwards. 

The second memory still woke him in the dark sometimes. He hadn’t been on the ground long when it happened. Walking through jungle, tired and worn thin, he almost hadn’t seen the woman come for him. She was alone, they found out later and maybe half-mad. All Fili knew was that she had a gun and seemed intent on using it. Training kicked in and he shot first. 

She died at his feet. He’d shot at people before already. He’d seen his comrades fall. But that was the first time he’d seen a dead body that he’d made. Her blood had gone to mud in the wet soil. It stained the bottom of his pants and leached into boots. Rot trailed after him for days, no matter how much he scrubbed them. 

He’d once told Kili that there wasn’t a day of the war that stood out as particularly horrible. What a lie that had been. To be far he hadn’t kept it a complete secret. He had confessed the gore of it into Eowyn’s ear. 

“I killed.” She said simply. “I know how it can stain the hands.” 

Neither of those memories had served him well. The guilt renewed every time he thought about them. But this last one, this simple truth, he had wanted to be known between them. He’d dreamed of that day of fire every night this week, the first time in a decade since it had been visited on him. It had to be time with all the water washed under the bridge. 

“Why do you think it was me?” Kili asked, taking off the jeweler’s glass and blinking his vision back. 

“I’d know your voice anywhere.” Fili tangled their legs together under the kitchen table. “I heard it and I panicked. I thought that somehow you’d gotten there and it scared me senseless. That’s why I stopped. That’s why I’m alive.” 

“I thought I’d made it up.” Kili leaned back in his chair, shaken. “Wrote it off years ago as a bad trip. A weird coincidence.” 

“Tell me.” 

“It was supposed to be the last time I took acid. I was alone, fucked up with everything and I was so tired...I don’t know what I thought would happen. I know I was thinking about you before I started tripping.” Kili closed his eyes as if to summon the memory. “The world was burning. I never quite saw you, only this line of men marching into the mouth of Hell. I tried to stop them. To stop you. And I shouted. You turned.” 

“Do you think it was real?” 

“I don’t know what to believe. I’m here and so are you.” Kili opened his eyes again and the light turned back on in Fili’s world. He had thought years of exposure would dull the intense passion he had for Kili. What a fool he had been. “What does it matter if it was real?” 

_Fili move in close to Tauriel. He had a hard time seeing the woman Kili must’ve loved. Instead, he saw a boy fragile, pock marked and deeply scarred._

_“I’ll take care of him now.” He assured her, too quiet for Kili to hear._

_“He takes care of you.” She murmured. “I made him see so he could save you. Take such care.”_

_“I will.”_

_“Don’t break it.” She tied a bracelet painfully tight around Fili’s wrist. “So so so delicate.”_

_“I know.”_

_“A life for a life.” She smoothed the knot down._

“Maybe it doesn’t matter.” He agreed. 

Fili wished he could speak with her once more, but Tauriel had left them a long time ago. The report said medication error, but Fili suspected something sinister. Another secret he kept from Kili. Her death had left Kili a mess, scattered and distant with grief. Kindling vengeance in that tinder pile hadn’t seemed wise. 

“Let’s go for a walk.” Kili stood, his hip cracking. “We’ve been sitting too long if you’re pondering the universe again.” 

“I was reading.” He protested, but the book had long ago been abandoned. He let Kili pull him upward. The new prosthetic was miles ahead of the first, but his missing foot still ached on days like today when the fog hung over the city. 

They lived in a nicer place these days, a better neighborhood. They walked down to the water and watched the bridge fade in and out of the clouds. Fili kept a cane with him, but Kili took his free hand and set it into the crook of his arm. No one stared as they walked by. Fili could never tell if it was his handicap that rendered them immune that. He thought Kili’s interest was clearly more proprietary than helpful, but people could be willfully blind. 

“We should go see Mom in the fall.” Kili kicked at pebble, watching it skip down the path. “I’ll be her sixty-fifth.” 

“I wish she’d move out here.” 

“She’s got the rest of the family out there.” 

“Still.” 

“It’s easier for her out there.” They’d had this conversation a dozen times. Kili sounded exasperated, so Fili let it be. 

“Do you want to fly or drive?” 

“Drive.” Kili beamed, irritation forgotten. “Can we?” 

“Do you think we can make it in the Honda?” 

Like Tauriel, like dear Bonnie, Marigold hadn’t survived beyond the death of the seventies. She’d sputtered her last and a practical four door had taken her place. They still brought her up often though like a beloved family member. 

“We’ll rent an RV. They make ‘em with bathrooms now, y’know.” Kili grinned, still boyish where it mattered. “We can travel in style.” 

The thought of going backwards, revisiting all those places of old pain and ripping revelation sent a shudder through him. 

“South.” He determined. “You wanted to see New Orleans.” 

“Oh.” Kili glanced at him and away. “I thought on the way back? I mean, I’d like to see Eowyn and Faramir again, wouldn’t you?” 

“Sure.” He crumbled immediately. “That’d be good.” 

“And the canyon.” Kili had apparently sensed the opening. 

“Why would you want to go back there?” To Fili that gaping rock would always be an open wound. 

“Because it’s beautiful.” Kili shrugged. “It’s just a place, Fi. Places can’t hurt you.” 

“Says you.” 

“Fi.” 

“Yes, the canyon too. We’ll do the whole crazy thing on reverse. If we can remember it all.” 

A frisbee sputtered by them, rolling over the pavement. Kili dropped Fili’s arm to chase after it, returning it to its waving owner in one graceful spin. Maybe he was older, greyer and wiser, but all Fili could see was the young man that drove him across the country back to sanity, back to home. 

“I love you.” He told him with an ease that came with practice.

“Love you too.” Kili took his hand again. “Dinner at Papi’s?” 

“Sounds good.” 

There were secrets between them. Lies too. Fili had no illusion that he was the only one hoarding those last threads of a different life. For the first time though, walking to the tiny restaurant where they were welcome regulars, that it didn’t seem to matter. Kili was right as usual. It didn’t matter if drugs and love had given Kili the power to reach over the ocean and save Fili’s life or that Fili’s unnatural passion for his brother had brought them to this mellow domesticity. They had traveled a long while to get here, but the dust from that road had long ago been washed away. This was what mattered. 

“You look happy.” Kili buttered a slice of bread and handed it to him. 

“I am.” And it was true from skin to bone for the first time.


End file.
